


Love Is Blindness

by Still_Dreamin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Oops, Separations, Slow Burn, hi, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 54,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_Dreamin/pseuds/Still_Dreamin
Summary: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.~William Shakespeare, Mid-Summer Night's Dream, 1595This story is about two young boys who meet in preschool and become best friends. Just when they begin growing up and plan to take the world on together, they get separated. The two spend long years apart. Then, as fate would have it, they meet again. But time is a wicked thing. As it passes it dulls old memories, it dulls old feelings. Time changes who we once were into what we now are. And time... Is irreversible.





	1. {Part I The Past}

**Author's Note:**

> The theme song for this story is "Friends" by Ed Sheeran.
> 
>  
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

It's a dark and rainy Friday morning in Cheshire, England. All the children are headed to school and all the parents headed to work.

As they do every Friday, Anne and her son have packed homemade cookies for Harry's preschool class. This time, Harry packed an extra. Anne is curious to know who for.

Anne drives Harry to school, and all the while Harry traces his fingers across the window. Small stubby fingers follow the streaks of rain drops, over and over again.

***

"Thank you, Anne," the preschool teacher says with a large smile, "All the children enjoy your cookies."

"I helped make them!" A small child with dark brown hair speaks up. His arms are wrapped tightly around his mother's leg.

"Oh, did you, Harry?" The teacher coos.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry practically squeaks, his blue eyes sparkle as his face breaks into a small grin.

Harry's eyes flick away from the teacher and to the little boy waving at him. Light brown hair falls straight over his forehead, it ends just above his brow. He has the same bowl haircut as Harry. The boy smiles with a closed mouth and waves more frantically at Harry.

Harry lets go of his mother, eager to rush to his friend. However, Harry's mother grabs his small arm before he can run off.

"Now, tell me, darling. Who did you bring an extra cookie for?" She asks as she crouches down to his level.

"Anne, it must be for Louis, I'm sure. He's the mischievous friend of Harry's," the teacher informs Harry's mother.

Harry's mind registers the word "mischievous" as a negative and he speaks up in defense, "Louis is not mis- mis-," Harry cannot pronounce the large word so he frowns and sighs in defeat.

"Who's Louis?" Harry's mother raises her eyebrows.

"Harry!" Louis squeals and runs to Harry, "I've been trying to wave you over! You didn't come."

"I was talking to my mum," Harry responds and looks at Anne.

"Hello," Harry's mother says to Louis.

"Hi, mum," Louis responds.

Anne's heart warms as the child calls her mum.

A scream at the back of the room snaps the teacher's attention and she bustles away to check up on the children.

"Mum, this is Louis," Harry tells his mother.

"Hello, Louis," Anne coos. She releases Harry and pulls Louis into a hug.

Louis hugs back tightly and places a kiss on Anne's cheek before pulling away.

"I made the extra cookie for Louis," Harry places his hands behind his back.

Louis looks at Harry, "I only want two cookies. Not three."

"Yes, but I want a cookie too. I can't give you my cookie every Friday," Harry pouts.

"Oh, good thinking," Louis says to Harry.

Anne smiles at the two children. Harry had told her last friday that next time they needed to take one extra cookie because he never got one. When Anne asked him why, he said his friend always wanted two so he gave his friend two.

"Louis, how old are you?" Anne asks the sweet child.

Louis' blue eyes widen, "I'm six, I started late because my mum left."

"Your mum left?" Anne asks, her eyebrows screwing together.

"Louis, look he took your seat," Harry quickly says to his friend.

Louis snaps his head up, "Oi!" He shouts in his high pitched voice and walks toward his seat.

"Don't ask him, mum!" Harry whispers. "It makes him cry. Louis told me on the playground and he cried," Harry hugs his mum.

"Okay, darling, I won't ask," Anne returns the hug and stands.

"I'll tell you later," Harry says.

"Okay," She nods to him, "Have a nice day at school."

As soon as Anne is about to leave she feels a small body slam into her legs.

"Mum! You forgot to give me a goodbye hug!" Louis cries.

Anne unlatches Louis from her leg and picks him up. For a six year old he's small and is the same size as four year old Harry. She gives him a tight hug and waits for him to let go before setting him down.

"Have a wonderful day at school, Louis," She smiles.

Louis grins and walks to Harry.

Anne watches as the children embrace, then walk to their table, together. She smiles to herself as she turns to leave.

***

When Anne comes to pick up Harry she talks to the teacher and inquires about Louis. She finds out Louis' mother died two years ago and ever since he has been an orphan, being juggled from one foster family to the next. This is his second year in preschool and the couple he is staying with seems nice. Though they do not let Louis call them mum, or dad, they take care of him as they should. So, Louis' education should finally be taking off.

Anne's heart breaks when she hears the news of Louis. Such a small child should not go through so much. Tears prick at Anne's eyes and the teacher softly pats her shoulder.

"Harry, your mum is here to pick you up," The teacher calls to Harry.

Harry is playing with Louis under the table. They both quickly put the molding clay away and grab their small backpacks.

"Mum, we have to wait for Louis' parents to pick him up. Or he's always left alone," Harry says.

"Hi, mum!" Louis pipes up from besides Harry.

"Can Louis come over?" Harry asks Anne.

"I'll need to meet Louis' parents for that," Anne says.

"Gardens," Louis says.

Anne looks at Louis.

"They're my gardens, not my parents. They told me," Louis says.

Anne understands that Louis means to say "guardians" and nods, "Alright, I need to meet Louis' guardian's first."

It isn't too long a wait, a blonde man in a crisp black suit quickly walks inside.

Louis speaks up, "Garden man is here."

The blonde man is followed by a blonde woman who's wearing a black skirt and a white shirt.

"Garden lady too," Harry finishes for Louis.

Anne glances down at her floral dress, unlike her they must have office jobs, something of a higher standard. Nothing so simple as a florist, like herself.

"Landon, Shannon, can I go to Harry's house?" Louis asks.

"Harry?" Landon asks. He looks at the small child and then to Anne.

"Harry is your son?" Landon asks with a friendly smile, which Anne was not expecting.

"Yes," Anne replies.

After a small talk and an exchange of phone numbers and addresses the guardians say yes to Louis.

"Do join us for dinner when you come to pick up Louis," Harry's mom grins.

"Of course," Shannon smiles.

"Bring me clothes, I'll have a sleepover with Harry," Louis says.

"Yes!" Harry shouts in excitement.

Shannon looks to Anne, "Is that-"

"It's alright," Anne says quickly, "If you are okay with it I'm more than happy to host the children's sleepover."

"You let us know if he's any trouble," Shannon says, "I'm so glad Louis has found a friend."

"It's a good thing," Landon agrees.


	2. {Part I The Past}

When Anne arrives home with the boys they both run off to play in Harry's room.

The babysitter, Rose, a neighbor is parked outside and comes in as soon as the family arrives.

"How was your day?" Rose kindly asks Anne.

"Oh, it's been lovely so far. How about you?" Anne questions in the same sweet tone.

"Quite nice. Did I see two little boys run inside?" Rose laughs.

"Yes, Harry brought a friend today. That won't be any trouble for you, right?" Anne's brow furrows in concern.

"Oh, of course not," Rose smiles, "You go on to your flower shop ma'am. I'll handle the children."

Anne smiles and places a hand on Rose's shoulder before turning toward her car.

Anne is a kind person who always looks for the kindness in everyone else. She never doubts that kindness lies in every being.

Rose does not take her job seriously. She sits on the couch all day and watches TV. Harry does not mind this, so he never tells his mother.

Rose enters the house and drops onto the couch. The TV blinks on and she is lost to the world of overly dramatic soap operas.

Louis and Harry are upstairs, their eyes wide with delight and curiosity as they complete their homework. They are now learning how to write small words and it completely engulfs both boy's attention. They both sit together on the floor of Harry's room, helping each other with their scarce preschool homework.

Within three hours Anne is back home and Rose is dismissed. Along with Anne arrives her daughter, Gemma.

"Did the employee arrive on time?" Rose asks Anne, attempting her usual small talk.

"Yes, for once she did," Anne laughs.

Gemma rushes past the adults and sprints up the stairs to her little brother.

Gemma is three years older than Harry, thus she attends a full day of school.

"Harry!" Gemma screams as she bursts into Harry's room.

Louis looks up and his face contorts in confusion.

"Who is this?" Gemma and Louis ask at the same time.

"She looks just like you!" Louis exclaims as his small head moves between Harry and Gemma.

Harry and Gemma both do look exactly alike, as if they are twins and not three years apart. The only difference between their features is Gemma has brown eyes, unlike Harry's blue.

"Well that's because I'm his sister," Gemma furrows her eyebrows, "You are?"

"He's Louis," Harry grins and runs to Gemma, "That is Louis," Harry engulfs Gemma into a tight hug, "Gems I missed you all day!"

Gemma smiles and hugs Harry back, eyeing the other child warily.

Louis clasps his hands in front of himself and smiles at Gemma.

Gemma releases Harry, "Well you better go play with your friend. I'm going to go practice my violin."

"Have fun with your wilden," Harry says.

"Thanks," Gemma laughs, ruffling her little brothers hair. Just as she is about to turn Louis walks up and squeezes her into a tight hug of his own.

"Hi, Harry number two!" Louis grins.

"I'm Gemma," Gemma states, lightly hugging Louis back.

"Gems!" Louis shouts, making Gemma wince.

"Alright, now, I'm going to go," Gemma quickly unlatches herself from the strange new child and rushes away.

***

Dinner that night ends up being an awkward affair for Gemma and quite comfortable for the rest of the two families.

Gemma quietly eats and retreats to her room to resign to sleep early.

The adults chitchat and Anne discovers, Louis' guardians are different, but not bad parents. The couple and Anne have quite a few differences and Anne makes a mental note to keep in touch with them but never to consider friendship with them.

At the dinner table Harry and Louis sit next to each other. Bright blue eyes meet every now and then. The two keep quiet, letting the adults talk. When Louis is finished he sits patiently and waits for Harry to finish.

Anne got out the nicer dishes for dinner and Harry has trouble lifting the heavy glass to his mouth. When Louis sees him struggle he reaches out and places his hand on the bottom of the glass, making sure Harry won't drop it. Harry notices and looks at him, Louis smiles in return.

***

"What is this?" Louis asks as he holds a stuffed banana that is his height.

"That's Mr. Yellow," Harry says.

"It's a banana," Louis holds the banana and looks down at it curiously, "It's a toy banana."

"Yes, his name is Mr. Yellow," Harry takes the banana out of Louis' hands and sets it on his bed, "Mum helped me change into my jammies, you need Mum?" Harry asks.

"No, I'll go change by myself in the bathroom," Louis' pudgy hands shift through a plastic bag till he finds his blue one piece nightsuit. Louis looks up at Harry's pink one and narrows his eyes, "Why is your's pink?"

"I like pink," Harry says, "Are you going to say I'm a girl?"

"No, pink is a good color. It's fine, you look nice," Louis shrugs.

"Good you didn't call me a girl. Because girl is not an insult," Harry continues.

"Huh?"

"Girl is not an insult. Like boy is not an insult. Gemma told me that. Gemma said if anyone tries saying 'girl' as an insult I should hit them hard and tell them they are a donut."

"Oh, hmm," Louis looks at the carpet, "Alright, Gemma sounds mean."

"No, she is not. Change, I'm going to find Gemma," Harry says.

"Okay," Louis replies, watching Harry leave the room.

Harry waddles out of the room and down the hall to his sisters room. He creaks the door open a tiny bit and whispers, "Gemma?" When he gets no response he opens the door fully and heads straight to the toy box. On top lies what he's looking for. Harry grabs the sparkly pink crown and places it in his thick curls. Just as he is about to leave Gemma stirs.

"Are you playing 'Princess' again?" She sleepily calls out.

Harry slaps his hands over his mouth and stands there with a shocked look, "I woke you up?" He squeaks.

Louis pads down the hall and peeks his head in from the doorway, "Hello?" He shouts.

"Princess Harry, I need you and Louis here to leave so I can sleep," Gemma pulls her blankets over her head and sighs.

Louis pulls a sheepish smile as he takes in Harry's pink crown, "Princess, huh?"

Harry places his finger on his lips and motions for Louis to back up. They both exit Gemma's room and head back to Harry's room.

Anne is there waiting for them, "Boys, you've played for enough time. I need to put you both to bed now," She coos.

"We can go to bed ourselves, Mum," Louis says, looking from Anne to the doorway.

"Yeah," Harry says.

When Anne raises an eyebrow Harry sighs, "Okay, Mum, put me to bed."

"And that tiara, darling, you need to take it off," Anne says as she gently pulls the crown out of Harry's curls, "You can play more games tomorrow."

Harry crawls onto the right side of the bed and lets his mother tuck him in.

Anne places Mr. Yellow on Harry's left.

Louis jumps on beside Mr. Yellow and pulls the covers over himself.

Anne places a soft kiss on each boy's head before leaving the room. She clicks the light off on the way out. A small, yellow, banana shaped nightlight comes to life in the dark.

"Is that a banana light?" Louis flatly asks.

"Yes," Harry responds.

"Mr. Yellow, why?" Louis asks.

"Mr. Yellow makes me feel safe," Harry hugs his stuffed banana.

"It's a toy, Harry. It can't protect you from anything," Louis stretches and shakes his head.

Harry considers this for a moment. Then he removes Mr. Yellow from between himself and Louis, "You're not a stuffed toy, right?"

Louis giggles, "Of course, not. That's why I can talk and move."

"Then, you can protect me," Harry clings onto Louis.

Louis looks over at Harry's face, faint in the dim glow, "Me?" his high-pitched voice asks for confirmation.

"Yes," Harry responds.

"I am older, that makes sense," Louis flips onto his side and hugs Harry back.

The two young children fall asleep peacefully. A promise of protecting entangled between them like thick vines.


	3. {Part I The Past}

3 YEARS LATER

***

"I'm Cinderella!" Seven year old Harry spins in front the mirror, admiring Gemma's old Halloween costume.

"You make a wonderful Cinderella," Nine year old Louis snaps his gum and grins.

"Can I dress up as Cinderella? I don't want to be a knight," Harry runs his hands over the sparkly blue dress, "Besides, I can't wear dresses on other days."

"Of course, whatever makes you happy," Louis shrugs, "I'll still be a knight."

"Thank you!" Harry smiles at his reflection.

"Yeah, whatever floats your goat," Louis stuffs his hands into his pockets and grins.

"My goat? I don't have a goat," Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Princess, you're stupid," Louis walks away into the kitchen.

"A Princess can never be stupid," Harry follows Louis.

"Cookies, now we're talking," Louis spits out his gum and grabs two frosted sugar cookies before heading to the dinner table and seating himself.

Harry grabs a cookie and settles himself in the chair next to Louis.

As soon as the boys finish their cookies Anne walks in.

"Harry, are you dressed?" She asks curiously.

"Yeah," Harry pauses, "Is this alright?"

"Of course!" Anne exclaims, "Did you boys want to take pictures?" She holds up the camera.

"I got a pose!" Louis jumps out of his seat, "Harry, come here, Princess."

Harry moves to Louis and looks up at him. Louis has gotten taller than Harry in the past years.

"What's the pose?" Anne asks.

"This," Louis grabs Harry and sweeps him off the ground, holding him bridal style.

Harry squeals and wraps his hands around Louis' neck, "This was not called for."

"Yes, it was. Now, smile," Louis grins at Anne and Harry smiles along.

Anne clicks the photo and laughs, "Cutest children ever."

"Yeah, I know I'm cute," Louis carries Harry to a chair and sets him down gently, "Your throne, Princess."

"Thank you, knight," Harry sticks his nose into the air in an act.

Anne snaps another quick shot without the boys noticing.

"Hurry, the candy awaits us," Louis says in a very knight-like manner.

"What about Gemma?" Harry asks.

At that moment Gemma walks downstairs, pushing glasses onto her face, "Please, ten is too old for such childish things."

Louis raises an eyebrow at Gemma, "Sure, then don't expect Harry to give you any of his candy."

"I do not even wish to eat candy. I don't like having cavities," with that Gemma purses her lips and spins around, walking back to her room.

"Let's go, Harry," Louis grabs a pillowcase to collect his treats.

"Wait, I don't have anything for my candy," Harry look around.

"Oh, gosh," Louis rolls his eyes, "We'll just say this pillowcase is for both of us and they'll put both our candy in it."

"Will you steal my candy?" Harry frowns.

"Harry, I will give you all the candy you like. Have faith," Louis turns and smiles at Anne.

"Mum," Harry wraps his arms around Anne.

Anne grins and hugs back.

Louis rushes up and hugs Harry from behind, "Sandwich!" He yells in Harry's ear.

Harry shifts his head away from Louis but doesn't say anything.

"Ahem," Gemma calls for attention, "Harry, come here."

Harry sighs and walks to Gemma, "I'm sorry for wearing your dress."

"I didn't say anything about the dress, Harry," Gemma grabs Harry's curly bangs and pins them out of his face with her sparkly, blue, butterfly hair clips.

"What is that?" Harry asks. When Gemma doesn't answer he repeats his question, "What is it?"

"Go look," Gemma says, satisfied with her work.

Harry rushes to the mirror and gasps at the sparkles in his hair, "Gems! These are your favorite hair clips. You're letting me wear them?"

"You are my favorite brother," Gemma shrugs, "Louis," She nods then walks back up the stairs.

"What's with her?" Louis asks.

"Gemma is going through a grown up phase," Anne shakes her head.

"Don't know why she'd want to grow up. I want to be a kid forever, like Peter Pan," Louis says.

With that Louis grasps Harry's hand in his and leads him to the door.

Louis and Harry spend two hours sprinting from house to house, vaulting across lawns and racing each other to be the first to ring the doorbell. They collect both of their candy in one bag, and whenever someone questions why they both have one bag Louis rolls his eyes and tells them to go with it.

When they are finished trick-or-treating the bag is heavy and Louis is huffing and puffing as the boys turn to take the long walk back to Harry's home.

"You must be tired from carrying that bag the whole time," Harry says, glancing at the bulging pillowcase.

"Not really," Louis says, but the strain is visible on his face as he attempts to throw the heavy candy bag over his shoulder.

"I'll hold it," Harry snatches the huge pillowcase out of Louis' hands.

"Princesses don't carry things, knights are supposed to do the work for them," Louis pouts.

"Yeah, but we're not a princess and a knight," Harry heaves the bag over his shoulder to make it easier to carry, "We're Louis and Harry and we both look out for each other."

Louis turns and smiles hugely at Harry. Harry doesn't notice, he's preoccupied with holding his dress up and keeping from tripping.

The sky is a navy blue and the sun is barely there, invisible over the tops of the houses as the two children walk the empty street back home. Behind them, the streetlights switch on, and an owl hoots in the nearby woods, sending them sprinting toward home. After all, it is Halloween night, everything that goes bump in the night is a potential danger. Neither boy tries to run faster than the other, they run side by side until they make it onto the porch, together.


	4. {Part I The Past}

5 YEARS LATER

***

Harry and Louis are seated together at their lunch table, shoulders bumping and elbows rubbing. A few of their friends surround them, but as usual, the two are only occupied with each other. That is, until Eleanor shows up uninvited, again.

Eleanor is the top cheerleader of the seventh grade class. And ever since she found out Louis is fourteen, and not twelve or thirteen like the rest of everyone in the grade, she swore she would date him.

Eleanor flips her straight brown hair over her shoulder as she approaches the boys' table.

"Oh, hi, Louis!" Eleanor slams her lunch tray down between Louis and Harry. She shoves Harry away without a glance and trains her mahogany eyes on Louis.

Louis pulls his lips into a tight line and turns to glare at Eleanor with narrowed eyes, "Goodbye, Eleanor."

"Aha! You are so funny!" Eleanor cries and lightly slaps Louis' shoulder.

"Yeah, he's hilarious," Harry says in monotone, only to be completely ignored by Eleanor again.

The lunch period drags on for Harry and Louis as Eleanor separates them and fails to charm Louis.

When lunch is finally over Eleanor leaves to join her cheerleader squad and Louis and Harry sigh in relief.

"What is it with her?" Louis asks in annoyance.

"Every girl wants the older boy," Harry shrugs.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a girl," Louis says.

Harry's eyes flick up to Louis as his mind registers the meaning.

"I don't want any of those girls," Louis' lip curls in disgust.

Harry follows Louis' eyes to the cheer squad and assumes Louis means he does not want any of the cheerleaders. Harry decides he feels the same way, all those girls are haughty and too rude for words.

"It's alright, she'll stop soon," Harry says.

"Anyway, did you get onto the football team?" Louis excitedly asks.

"I did, and I saw that you did too," Harry grins and gives Louis a friendly punch.

"Maybe this year will be fun," Louis grins.

"Of course, it will be!" Harry chimes along.

Louis leans in to Harry and whispers, "If the prissy girls stay off our backs."

Harry laughs and Louis giggles along.

***

At the end of the school day, both boys get picked up by Landan, Louis' father, as per say.

"Landan, we've got to go shopping for footy gear, only shin guards and cleats, everything else we have to buy from the school," Louis excitedly tells his father figure.

"Of course, Louis, here," Landan hands his credit card back to Louis.

Louis' eyes widen and he grabs the small plastic card excitedly. He's never been handed more than fifty pounds in cash before. A credit card seems like a mad amount of responsibility to him.

"How about I drop you boys off at the mall and you both can buy your footy gear? Have some fun as well, call me when you're done," Landan grins at the boys in the rear-view mirror.

"Great!" Louis exclaims.

"I don't have money, though," Harry says, "Could we stop by at my home?"

"Nonsense," Landan says with a wave of his hand, "You're both the same to me. Don't worry about it, Harry."

Harry's cheeks tinge pink at the affection and he smiles.

Louis reaches up and pokes Harry's dimple, causing Harry to smile deeper.

Landan chortles at the boys cuteness as he pulls up to the mall.

Both the boys jump out, leaving their backpacks in the backseat.

"Whenever you're done," Landon does a hand motion to call him and speeds off.

"Well, let us go get our footy gear and then I'll treat you to dinner, princess," Louis grins.

"Shh!" Harry clamps his hand across Louis' mouth, "We discussed this! Not in public!"

"No one's paying attention to what a couple of kids are calling each other," Louis rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, they are," Harry folds his arms across his chest.

"Fine, chill," Louis grabs Harry's hand and leads him inside.

When the boys are checking out their footy gear the receptionist grins at them and tells them they are a cute couple.

Louis blushes and pulls his hand out of Harry's, where as Harry simply smiles and plays along.

"Guess we are," Harry shrugs, throwing Louis a sly grin.

Louis focuses his eyes on the tiled floor the entire time, his face the color of a strawberry.

"That was weird," Harry laughs when they exit the store, "She thought we were a couple!"

"Yeah," Louis forces a laugh, "It was hilarious," Louis' wide eyes search Harry's face before he lets out a deep breath, "She genuinely thought we were together," Louis forces a laugh.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, "It was just an honest misunderstanding, Louis."

"Yeah, I'm okay," Louis says, running a hand through his hair, "How about that dinner now, yeah?"

"KFC?" Harry questions.

"Anything for you, princess," Louis bops Harry's nose with his finger and breaks out into hysterical laughter when Harry narrows his eyes.

"I should have never dressed as a princess for Halloween," Harry mutters.

"But, that's your thing. You were always the mysteriously pretty princess that showed up with me every Halloween," Louis turns and points to the food court, "There's the KFC."

"What do you want?" Louis asks Harry.

"Whatever you want," Harry shrugs, "It's KFC, everything tastes like heaven."

"Amen to that," Louis agrees.

"Where do you want to sit?" Harry questions.

"Next to you," Louis replies.

"How about that empty table by the window?" Harry asks.

Louis shoves Harry in the direction of it, "Quick, go claim the table while I get the food!" He shouts.

Harry smiles at everyone as they turn to stare at the boys. Louis doesn't notice anyone looking and he struts on over to the KFC to order for himself and Harry.

Harry quickly makes his way down the aisle toward the table, throwing an award winning smile at everyone who's still giving him a weird look due to his loud friend.

As Louis always does, he gets overly excited when he reaches the KFC and orders too much for two people to share.

"Why did you order four whole buckets of fried chicken?" Harry gasps as he rushes up to help Louis bring the food to the table.

"I had the money to," Louis shrugs.

"Oh god," Harry shakes his head.

"I'll go grab the drinks, only got two of those!" Louis laughs loudly and rushes off to grab their Pepsi.

Harry sits down and looks at the the enormous amount of meat, wondering what on earth they're going to do with it. He glances over at Louis, who's already returning with two drinks in his hands.

Harry smiles as he watches his friend. There's always a bounce in Louis' step, a carefree attitude emulates from him. He bumps into a table as he walks and as an apology he throws a laugh over his shoulder, causing the people at the table to laugh as well. Harry thinks of how opposite him and Louis can be... Yet, they're still such close friends.

Louis slides in the seat across from Harry and shoves a drink to him, "Are you going to eat or not?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for you," Harry uncovers a bucket of chicken between them and peels off a paper plate from the stack for himself.

Louis doesn't bother for a plate, he quickly grabs a crunchy piece of meat and bites into it, "Perfection," He mumbles, chewing furiously and taking another bite.

Harry internally sighs and peels off another paper plate for Louis. He slides it under Louis hands then reaches for the bucket, "Who's going to finish this?" Harry asks Louis.

Louis shrugs, "We can give it to the homeless."

Harry's eyes widen, "That's a good idea! There's people around here who hold signs saying they're hungry or jobless."

"They're all filthy liars, Harry," Louis holds his fried chicken between his thumb and his index finger, "They make a lot of money that way, you innocent chap."

"How do you know?" Harry rips off a piece of meat with his fingers and dips it in ketchup.

"Politics, chap," Louis flicks his wrist.

"What does politics have to do with the homeless?" Harry asks, popping the food in his mouth.

"Politics has to do with everything!" Louis shouts and throws his arms out, causing the piece of fried chicken to go flying out of his hand and smack against the window.

Both the boys turn to stare at the chicken which is now lying on the floor. A shapeless grease stain marks the spot where the fried meat hit the window.

"Politics," Harry says disgustedly, shaking his head at the window.

Louis turns and grins proudly at Harry, "Exactly, Harold, politics is behind everything!"


	5. {Part I The Past}

"Why is practice so hard?" Harry whines, laying on a bench in the changing room.

"Because you're a weakling," Louis responds.

"Lou," Harry gasps, "Rude!"

"I'm joking, Harry," Louis laughs, whipping his shirt off and flinging the sweaty garment on Harry's face.

"Ew, Louis sweat," Harry sits up and balls up the shirt before throwing it back at Louis.

"Louis," Grey, a boy on their team comes over, "Great job in practice! With you on the team we'll do great," With that Grey high fives Louis and walks away without giving Harry a glance.

Harry purses his lips and sighs as Grey walks away. It's common, really. People tend to notice Louis, they tend to like Louis, and no one really pays attention to Harry. Louis, however, gives all his attention to the curly haired boy. And as Harry turns his pouted face toward Louis, Louis reads his feelings in a millisecond.

"You know, that pass you did to me was amazing," Louis gives Harry his hand and Harry pulls himself up, "It was just a moment before the ball would have been stolen. It was great," Louis grins and pats Harry's shoulder.

Harry blushes and smiles back, "Thanks, Lou."

"Now, are you going to change or what?" Louis pats Harry's locker before returning to his and pulling out his change of clothes.

Both boys change quickly into their day clothes from earlier and leave the locker room together.

"I'm so sticky," Harry complains.

"Me too," Louis agrees, "Sweat tends to do that, Harry.

Harry tilts his head and narrows his eyes playfully, "Are you sure it's sweat and not politics?"

"Oh," Louis narrows his eyes and nods thoughtfully, "Maybe it is politics, I think you're onto something."

"You know what else is politics?" Harry asks, opening his water bottle and taking a sip.

"Everything?" Louis asks.

"This," With that Harry splashes Louis in the face with water and sprints down the school hallway.

"Styles!" Louis wipes his face and chases after him, "I can run faster than you," Louis warns.

"No!" Harry yelps and runs faster toward the exit, "King Harry for the win!"

"King Louis for the win!" Louis shouts, gaining on Harry quickly.

But Harry's got the lead and he runs through the school doors and flings himself down the walkway toward his Mum's waiting car.

"Styles!" Louis cries out, pumping his little legs harder.

Harry pretends to stumble and Louis instantly catches up.

"You okay?" Louis shouts over his shoulder, still running.

"Louis," Harry fake whines as he slows down his run to let Louis win.

"Aha!" Louis opens Anne's car and flings himself into the back, "Hello, Mum."

"Hello, darling," Anne laughs as Harry jumps into the car, "Hello to you too, Harry."

"Good evening, Mum," Harry replies.

Louis gives Harry a sideways glance and smirks slyly, "I guess I won," Louis hums and gazes out the window.

Anne starts the car and begins driving, giving the boys one glance in the rear-view mirror before focusing on the road.

"Don't you always?" Harry shrugs at Louis and looks away, his face holding a secret smile of his own.

"I have legs of steel," Louis pats his thighs, "Good work, legs."

"Oi, boys," Anne calls back.

"Yes?" Harry responds.

"Would you like to pick up pizza today?" Anne questions.

"What about KFC, though?" Louis asks.

"Gemma is a vegetarian now," Harry says rolling his eyes.

"She can eat lettuce," Louis whines.

"That's not all vegetarians eat," Harry frowns, "She might be annoying but she is my sister, Louis."

"Yeah, yeah, she still doesn't like me," Louis waves his hand, "Fine, lets get pizza."

"Yup, pizza it is!" Harry smiles, "Pepperoni for Louis."

"Yup, pepperoni for me," Louis grins at Harry, guilt forming in his stomach as he realizes he's been hiding something for far too long.

***

Once they get home, the boys take their pizza to Harry's room, claiming they have far too much homework to be able to sit at the dining table and eat with the family.

Louis is sitting on Harry's bed, "Harry," Louis mumbles through a mouthful of pizza.

"Yeah?" Harry asks, actually going through his backpack and pulling out homework.

"Harry, I have to tell you something, I've been keeping it from you," Louis sets his pizza down and picks at the pepperoni.

Harry glances up, mouth open, "What is it?"

"I just-" Louis picks up the pizza and stuffs it into his mouth.

"Did something happen?" Harry asks, concerned.

Louis nods but stuffs more pizza into his mouth to keep from talking.

"Louis, stop, tell me," Harry says sternly, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I have to leave," Louis says.

"No, you're staying the night," Harry points out, "You don't have to leave, tell me."

"That's the thing, I have to leave," Louis pauses, "Europe, I have to leave Europe."

Suddenly it's as if a weight has dropped in Harry's stomach and the air is too thick to enter his lungs, "Hah," He wheezes out, "Hah, you're so funny," Harry says, forcing a cringe-worthy smile onto his face, "Hah, you got me."

"Harry, this isn't a joke," Louis sets his plate down and clears his throat, "Landon is moving his business to America," His voice cracks at the end.

"America?" Harry breathes out, eyes glistening with tears.

"Yes, we're leaving tomorrow," Louis bites his lips and breathes deeply through his nose, eyes cast down to avoid Harry's hurt gaze.

"Tomor-" Harry's voice cracks and he lets out a sob.

Louis blinks back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and looks up, "I'm sorry I would have told you earlier but-"

"But what?" Harry cries out, tears streaming down his face, "Am I just so unimportant to you that you decided to wait until the last minute to tell me?"

"Harry, please-"

"Louis, you please, you please shut up and tell me this is a sick joke, one of those jokes you like to take too far!"

"I wish I could," Louis' eyes spill the tears and he buries his face in his hands.

"Boys!" Anne yells up from downstairs.

"Tomorrow?" Harry asks, dropping to his knees in front of the bed.

"Boys!" Anne throws the bedroom door open and runs inside, "Are you fighting?" She glances between their tear streaked faces, "What happened?"

Gemma calmly walks in with a slice of pizza in her hand and a raised eyebrow.

"Tomorrow," Harry repeats and rushes to his mom, "Mum, he said he's leaving tomorrow!"

"What?" Anne asks confused.

Louis pulls his knees up and lets out a loud sob.

"He's going to America," Harry chokes out between sobs.

Anne's mouth drops open and her arms slacken from around Harry, she's speechless, "What?" She manages to whisper.

Even Gemma, who always claimed to not like Louis, drops her pizza, her mouth left hanging open, "What?" She shouts.

"I'm sorry," Louis whines again.

"No," Gemma shouts, walking to the bed and pushing Louis' knees down, "Do you hear me?" She pulls his hands away from his face and stares into his watery eyes, "You're not leaving!"

"You never liked me anyway," Louis frowns and looks up to see Harry still wrapped around his Mum.

"Well, who am I supposed to get annoyed at for being loud and eating all my cookies?" Gemma yells, "You can't just tell us that you're leaving to America tomorrow! Do you know how far away that is?"

"An ocean," Louis sobs and hugs Gemma.

"Louis," Gemma starts crying as well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't tell you earlier," Louis speaks into Gemma's shoulder, "I was pretending," He gasps for air, "I was pretending it wasn't real."

Anne and Harry move to the bed and the family hugs, every heart aching. Louis had become a part of their family, a regular visitor, the one who ran around the whole house with excited eyes and a loud voice. Now, how are they supposed to live without that?


	6. {Part I The Past}

Louis and Harry lay in silence on Harry's bed, both facing each other in the dim yellow glow of Harry's banana nightlight.

Louis is contemplating whether or not he should tell Harry the biggest thing. The biggest thing is something that has been bugging him for a year now. But it might ruin everything, so Louis just lays in silence, like Harry is doing.

Harry slowly slides his left hand toward Louis and Louis instantly grabs a hold of it.

"I still can't wrap my head around this," Harry takes a deep breath.

"I know, I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I didn't want anything between us to change," Louis responds with a squeeze of Harry's hand, "And maybe if I didn't say it, it wouldn't happen."

"Nothing would have changed," Harry whispers.

"Look now, Princess, things changed as soon as I told you. Now, you're laying in silence whereas on a normal day you'd be talking nonstop about an insignificant topic."

"I didn't think the topics were insignificant," Harry defends himself.

"Sure," Louis giggles, "We can pretend that."

Harry places his right hand over his and Louis' already intwined hands, "This is the last time you're sleeping over," Harry says, his eyes beginning to leak small tears again.

"Don't cry, Harry. I can't see you crying," Louis says.

"I'm not crying," Harry replies, ignoring the tear rolling down his cheek and soaking into the pillow below his head.

"Want to talk about something else?" Louis questions.

"Okay, what are you not going to miss," Harry quickly says.

"Probably the school, and those prissy cheerleaders, and the tall janitor who always stuck the gum on my locker," Louis quickly lists.

"And what will you miss?" Harry attempts to sniffle quietly.

"Everything else," Louis admits.

"Me?" Harry softly asks.

"Yes, you. You most of all," Louis sighs, "I wanted a topic change."

"Okay, will I be able to call you?" Harry keeps asking questions relating to the same topic. Louis is trying to evade that topic till the last minute.

"Yes, topic change," Louis states.

Harry doesn't think it's the right time, but it's now or never. So, he quickly musters up the courage and bursts out the words, "Okay, dating?"

"Of course, the top subject of middle school," Louis rolls his eyes.

"No, I mean it, let's talk about that."

"Can I-" Louis stops abruptly, "Never mind."

"What? You can tell me," Harry urges, scooting closer to Louis, their hands held between their chests.

"Okay, would you date a girl two years younger than you?" Louis attempts at a casual question.

"A ten year old?" Harry asks.

"Not now, when you're older," Louis explains, still aiming for casual.

"Sure," Harry shrugs, then he quickly adds, "Two years older would be alright too, now that you mention age."

"Oh," Louis nods in return, "That's nice," he mumbles as his heart swells with the new information.

Harry nods as he builds up the seemingly reckless courage to continue his questionnaire, "Would you date a boy?" Harry asks.

Louis' head slightly jerks away from Harry's, the new question lighting the kindling in his chest, "Uh, sure."

"I was beginning to get this vibe that you like boys," Harry pushes, "It's okay, Mom and Gemma told me liking boys is okay."

"Why are we having this conversation now?" Louis asks, moving his head closer to Harry's again.

"This is so very important to know. Do you like boys?"

The small fire in Louis chest has built and there's smoke billowing from it, causing him difficulty breathing, but he manages to choke out, "I guess."

"You do like boys?" Harry asks, pressing for a solid answer. This is so important to him.

"Yes," Louis says this time, exhaling deeply.

There's a long pause and then, Harry says it, "I think I do too."

And the fire is now a well built structure in Louis' chest because suddenly he thinks he can tell Harry without Harry coiling back. Maybe, he can tell Harry that even though they're only in the seventh grade, and even though Harry is younger-

"Louis," Harry interrupts Louis' thoughts. Harry knows this is risky, but it's now or never. So, he throws out the ultimatum his questions were leading up to, "Since we both like boys, and we're both best friends, wouldn't it make sense if we were each other's first kiss?"

"What?" Louis breathes out.

"I thought I'd ask, since you're leaving tomorrow anyway," Harry's voice is small and he tries pulling his hands out of Louis' but Louis holds on tight.

"That would make sense," Louis responds quickly, "But no one can know."

"No one, except us," Harry agrees. His heart is gone, it's not in his chest anymore. Harry's heart is out dancing in a field with wild flowers and birds.

"Our secret," Louis concludes.

Since he has created this situation, Harry believes he must act first. And Harry knows, he already knows that if he kisses Louis, his heart is never coming home. It's going to get lost in that field. It'll dance it's little self out till it forgets everything except that field. And still, Harry moves himself so close to Louis' that he can feel Louis' breath on his face.

"Toothpaste," Louis grins, "That's gonna be quite the taste to remember from a first kiss."

"You're so silly, this is serious," Harry says as he slowly closes the small gap and presses his lips against Louis'.

And suddenly the fire has turned into an inferno and Louis thinks it's going to kill him from the inside out.


	7. {Part I The Past}

Everything seems to move too fast today. Harry is abruptly ripped out of sleep and Louis' hands yanked out of his own.

Harry sits up and runs a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. Louis runs out the door and Harry sits there in confusion.

A few moments later Louis rushes back in, places a stack of magazines on his pillow and rushes out.

Harry squints at the teen magazines, but the colors blind him and he quickly looks away. Why is Louis putting magazines on the pillow?

Harry finally gets up and stumbles to the bathroom. A hazy memory of kissing Louis comes back and Harry's squinty eyes snap wide open. He stands with his hands on the bathroom sink and stares at the faucet. Then he slowly feels a grin spread across his face, at least now Louis will never be able to forget him.

Harry feels triumphant in that moment. Now Louis will always have to remember him, no matter how far away he goes. Childhood best friend and first kiss. Harry has done it. He tricked Louis into secretly being his. He's got a special place in Louis' mind, and no one can take that from him. In that sense, Louis is his. Louis will be in America and there will be lots of pretty boys and girls but Louis will never be able to forget Harry now. Not even the prettiest face on Earth could make him forget.

Louis runs into the bathroom and shoves Harry out, "Let me take my last English shower!"

"Are American showers different?" Harry asks, honestly curious.

"Yes, I heard they shower in the blood of animals," Louis throws back.

"Alright," Harry replies, lowering his eyelids at the absurd answer.

***

Harry has been doing all he could to hold himself together till Louis has to leave. But when Louis is standing at the doorway with his guardians, Harry runs up to his bedroom. He just stands there for a moment, convincing himself to calm down. Then, his eyes land on Mr. Yellow, lying in the corner of his room. He goes over and picks up the stuffed toy banana, giving it a once over. It's about the size of his torso, and a withered shade of yellow, but it holds so many memories. He wants Louis to hold on to these kinds of memories. Harry rushes back down the stairs.

The Tomlinson's are in their car already. Louis is craning his neck around to see where Harry has gone.

"Wait!" Harry shouts, bolting out the front door, shoving past his mother and sister, "Wait, hold up!" He rockets himself across the lawn and to the car which is halted just outside the driveway.

Louis pushes himself onto his seat and sticks his upper half out of the car window, his arms wide open for Harry to run into. And Harry does run into Louis' arms and he practically pulls Louis out the window. As gently and secretly as he can, Harry kisses Louis' cheek during the embrace, and Louis returns it.

"This is for you," Harry says, shoving Mr. Yellow into Louis' face.

"Mr. Yellow!" Louis smiles at the banana.

"I know it's only a stuffed toy, and I know it can't keep you safe, but it holds memories," Harry is struggling to keep his tears in now.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks.

"Flight is an hour," Shannon sharply calls back.

"Yeah, go," Harry says, forcing a smile, "Call me when you land!"

"I will!" Louis shouts, "I've got your number noted in one of Shannon's journals."

Harry steps back from the car and Louis sticks his hand out. Harry is reaching out to grasp it when Landon presses down on the gas and their fingers barely skim before the car zooms away.

Harry's forced smile drops instantly and he stands there with his arm outstretched. Louis arm hangs limply out the window for a few moments before disappearing inside. The car rolls down the street for two blocks then spins left. And Harry is left staring into the woods at the end of the street.

Harry thinks then about the owls living in those woods. They all live alone. He is alone now. But then Anne and Gemma join him outside. Their warm arms wrap around him. Harry knows then that he is not alone, and he never will be. Louis may be gone, but he still has his mother and his sister. They have loved him since he was born. They have loved him unconditionally. Though it will take some time to get used to not having Louis around, Harry knows he will not be alone.

***

"I'm going to go shower," Harry states when he's inside the house.

"Hurry down," Gemma calls after him, "We'll ditch school together and go bowling. I'll invite my weird friends who you said you like!"

"First and last time," Anne chimes in.

"Sure, we can pretend it's the first time," Gemma drawls mischievously.

"Gemma, you uncouth child," Anne gasps.

Harry takes shaky breaths as he climbs the stairs and walks the empty hallway to his room. He crawls across his bed and sits facing his wardrobe. The stack of magazines Louis left on the bed slides to the ground with a loud thud.

Suddenly Harry realizes it's not a stack of magazines. It's a box wrapped in papers ripped out of a magazine.

Harry quickly yanks up the box and scratches at it with his blunt nails. Slowly he rips away the magazine paper to reveal a nikon camera. Harry flips the box over and reads the back.

It's a high performance camera. It's got amazing zoom as well, great for photography.

Harry eagerly opens the box, wondering why Louis gave him a camera. On the top flap of the box is a note. It's messily scrawled in black pen. Louis.

"I read somewhere that pictures hold a thousand words or something. Since you like cute cheesy shit, I got you this camera. I used the camera to get a few snaps of my lovely face in it before giving it to you. Hope you like it nonetheless... Princess."

Harry grins at the note for a moment, then it hits him. Louis took pictures of himself on this camera. Harry quickly dislodges the camera from the box and clicks it on. He presses play and sure enough, there is Louis' face, grinning at him. And there's Louis again, pouting this time. Then again, flexing his twiggy arms in the mirror. And again, gazing off into the distance.

"You vain bastard," Harry whispers to himself, giggling. But Harry loves the pictures. Whatever ridiculous pose it is, Harry still loves it.


	8. {Part I The Past}

After Louis leaves, Harry signs off the football team.

"Are you sure, lad?" The coach asks Harry.

"Yes," Harry sets his uniform on the desk, "And I brought you cupcakes as an apology for letting you down," he points at the store bought plastic container of half a dozen.

"You didn't let me down, Henry," Coach smiles at Harry, "Never think that. It's alright if you don't want to play."

Harry nods at the coach. Did Coach just call him Henry?

"Perhaps next year?" Coach asks.

"Perhaps," Harry nods again, "I have got to get to class now, goodbye."

"Have a lovely day, Henry," Coach smiles.

Harry smiles back and exits the office. Harry is glad he signed off the football team. The boys on the team made him feel excluded and Coach never even knew his name. That is disrespectful.

That day a new girl moves to Harry's school. She's got brown hair and bangs that need a trim. Her gray eyes scan the group of kids when she enters the classroom. Harry smiles as their eyes meet. The girl sits on the opposite side of the room from Harry. So much for making new friends.

After school, Harry walks to his old elementary school. There's a playground in the back which is used by the neighborhood kids as a park all the time. Louis and Harry used to play there during recess. Right now, it's almost empty. It's a cold day after all, not many people want to be outside.

Harry settles himself into a low swing and kicks at the wood chips on the ground. He's thinking of Louis, of course. Louis never called him. It's sad, really. Harry doesn't have a number but Louis had Harry's number. Why didn't Louis call? Maybe Louis forgot him. Maybe the first kiss scheme didn't work. Maybe being someone's childhood best friend can be easily forgotten. Maybe America is just a crazy place that makes you go crazy.

Louis moved to Chicago. Harry knows this. Louis had talked all about how there's a lake and huge buildings. That night, before leaving, Louis had said that maybe one day Harry could come visit him in Chicago.

Harry sighs. Louis probably went to his new school and instantly made everyone his friend. Everyone here loved him. People there probably love him even more, with his accent being different and whatnot.

"Big kids don't play here," A high pitched voice snarks at Harry.

Harry looks up from the ground to see a small girl with her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me, did you not hear?" She narrows her eyes, "That's my friend's swing."

Feet shuffle behind the girl and a short boy peeks his eyes over her shoulder.

"Don't be scared, Max. I'll handle the big kid," The girl tells the boy.

Harry smiles at them, they remind him of Louis and himself. Louis being the sassy little girl currently glaring at him. And himself being the boy, tentatively peeking out from behind her, "I'm sorry for taking your friend's swing," he gets up and trudges back toward home.

The kids grin at each other and claim their respective swings, watching Harry's slumped shoulders disappear into the distance.

***

Time passes quickly for Harry that year. He joins a gym and he signs into photography classes outside of school. When summer break comes around Harry isn't really prepared for it. The gym and photography lessons are still on but he's got too much free time now. Harry decides he could take singing classes. But Anne hasn't got the money for photography classes, a gym membership and singing classes. So, Harry kicks thoughts about lessons out of his mind and figures singing to himself will have to do.

***

"Isn't she lovely?" Harry softly sings as he walks through the countryside, "Isn't she wonderful?"

Harry is sixteen now. He has got a job at a bakery, and he's saving up every single penny in a box with "Important!" written across it in thick red marker.

"Isn't she precious?" He bends down and his fingers dislodge a stone from the ground, "Less than one minute old."

Harry's dressed in cargo shorts and a t-shirt. A beanie that is unfitting for the warm weather sits atop his mess of curls.

Harry turns the stone over and over in his hand, "I never thought," He pulls his hand back and shoots the stone ahead of himself with a grunt, "Through love we'd be making someone as lovely as she."

Harry sighs loudly and sits down in the middle of the field.

Today The X-Factor auditions are going on in Cheshire. If Harry had the nerve to sing in front of people he might have auditioned. But he doesn't have the guts to do that. Thus, he escaped into the countryside for the day. He'll go back after dark.

The wind is barely there today, lightly skimming over his skin. The sun is out for once. Harry closes his eyes and tilts his head toward the heat.

If Louis had been here, he would have forced Harry to audition. Louis would have yelled at him to never give up on a dream. Louis would have auditioned as well, just to support Harry and show him it isn't that hard. But Louis isn't here, and Harry is terrified of a humiliating rejection.

"Princess!" Louis' high pitched voice squirms it's way into Harry's head.

Harry grins at the memory. He doesn't stop the flood of memories. He should stop it. Louis left. Louis might not even care anymore. Yet, Harry goes back in time and relives every moment he can remember.

Harry thinks to himself then, that even if Louis has forgotten him, Harry will never forget Louis.


	9. {Part II The Present}

Harry is twenty-one, now. His curly hair is grown out to his shoulders and it looks almost wavy. His obsession with the gym has done him well. At six feet, he's a tangle of long limbs and lean muscles.

Harry is standing in the bathroom, getting dressed. He purses his lips in the mirror as he does up the buttons of his shirt. His cheekbones accentuate and he narrows his eyes in concentration. Long fingers slide up his front, popping the buttons in easily.

Harry takes a deep breath and slings his camera around his neck. This is actually happening. This needs to end well. Everything needs to work out perfectly or what even is the point of life?

"Hershel, your flight is in two hours!" Gemma shouts as she pounds on the bathroom door, "Get your fucking ass out here!"

"Language!" Harry hears his mom call out to Gemma from somewhere further away.

Although twenty-four, Gemma obliges, "Get your dumb self out here!"

Harry swings the door open and Gemma almost falls. She had been leaning on the door and the sudden opening of it startled her.

"Careful, Doughnut," Harry grabs her arm and keeps her from falling.

"Well, look at you. I see you got all dressed up. You're going to look like shit when you get off at Chicago anyway. There really isn't a point in doing your hair like that," She reaches up and ruffles Harry's hair.

"No, Doughnut! Harry shouts and turns back to the mirror to push back his hair in the perfect way he likes it.

"Celebrities and their hair," Gemma rolls her eyes.

"No one knows me... but models are supposed to be the epitome of beauty so, I have to try and look good," Harry turns his face from side to side, making sure he looks decent.

"You look great," Gemma flicks the light off.

Harry recently got pulled into the modeling industry. He was discovered on a family trip to London. A photographer clicked pictures of him and sent them around. Immediately, Harry started getting calls. Being himself, Harry said he'd think about the offer to everyone who called. Harry had the intention of rejecting all of them. But soon, a caller mentioned Chicago and Harry was instantly hooked.

Harry sighs and follows Gemma downstairs to the front door. His bags are lying next to the door. He's taking along as many of his clothes and belonging he could stuff into those.

"Mum is packing you food, Hagrid," Gemma sashays away into the kitchen.

Harry stands there for a minute and takes in the home he's leaving.

The modeling job he got pulled for is supposed to be a one year contract. Also, Harry managed to get into a University there so he can continue his studies. Harry's mum insisted to continue studying. She didn't say why but Harry knows why. His mum wants him to continue studying because she thinks this new modeling career is going to be a short one. It's not that she doesn't believe in him, she wants him to have something to fall back on. Besides, Harry agrees with continuing his studies. If he's started college, he wants to finish.

In university, Harry has been studying photography. It is his favorite thing and he excels in it.

"I packed you cookies," Anne rushes down the hall and pushes the box into his duffle bag, "Squeezing it into your bag," she tells him.

"Thank you, mum," Harry smiles at Anne.

Anne pulls Harry down into a hug and Harry bends down to hug her back.

"Call me when you land," Anne's voice cracks.

"I will mum, don't you cry now," Harry slowly lets go, "Is the cab here?"

"The cab has been here for ages, Harold," Gemma pops up out of nowhere and squeezes Harry as tight as she can manage.

"You're a strong doughnut," Harry announces to her. Gemma's hug actually hurts but Harry doesn't move away, "I'm going to miss you, Gems, you too mum," Harry looks at Anne over Gemma's shoulder.

"Oh, my baby," Anne pushes her way into the hug.

The little family sways there for a moment, in a warm embrace full of love. An abrupt honk outside forces them to detach.

"I should really go," Harry kisses Anne and Gemma on their foreheads and pulls away.

"I'll help you get your bags," Gemma swings the door open and lugs a suitcase outside.

"Gemma, I can get my bags," Harry grabs the other two and follows.

"Shut up, Henry," Gemma shouts.

Once Harry's bags are stuffed into the trunk of the cab it all really starts to sink in. Harry is actually leaving. A stone drops in the pit of his stomach as Harry turns to look at Anne and Gemma standing in the doorway of his home. Harry can't help the tears that spring into his eyes and he runs back to hug his family one last time before leaving for the year.

"I actually love you both so much," Harry's voice cracks and his nose feels hot from the pressure of the tears threatening to spill.

"We love you too," Anne replies with tears of her own showing up, "Don't cry, love."

"I hate you," Gemma sweetly sings.

Harry can't help but laugh at this.

"I'm going to miss you a lot," Gemma sighs.

"I will too," Harry gives his family one last hug and finally turns to walk down the driveway and get into the cab.

"I actually do love you!" Gemma shouts after him.

"I know, I love you too, Gems!" Harry turns back and now, even Gemma has tears in her eyes. But Gemma plasters a huge grin on her face and gives Harry a thumbs up. Harry returns the gesture and looks away.

Once in the cab, Harry turns and waves at his mother and sister before turning toward the front. He takes deep soothing breaths to get the feeling of crying out of his system.

The cab rolls out of the driveway and heads down the street. Harry stares forward into the woods at the end of the street. The woods get nearer and nearer. Suddenly, the driver takes a quick right and the woods are out of sight.

Harry closes his eyes and leans his head against the headrest. He thinks back to a video he once saw of Chicago. It was all dramatic music and flashes of different places in the city. He wonders if Chicago will actually be that dramatic. Models and big businesses and Lake Michigan and... Louis.

The cab ride to London takes a while and the whole time Harry sits in the back with The 1975 playing in his headphones and thoughts of Louis sprinting through his mind. How must Louis look now? He probably looks amazing. Does he still have his accent or does he have an American accent now? An American accent would be incredibly attractive but his original accent would be massively familiar. Would Louis have long hair or maybe no hair? Louis would still be in Uni, right? Or maybe not. Wow, Louis is twenty-three. It's been nine years since he's seen Louis. They were only friends for eight years.

"Hey!" The cab driver shouts above Harry's music.

Harry pulls his headphones down and opens his eyes, "Yes?"

"Get the fuck out of my cab!" The old driver shouts.

Harry looks outside and sure enough, he's at the Heathrow Airport, "Wow," Harry mumbles as he opens the door and exits the cab, taking in the grand sight.

"Get your stuff, lad!" The driver yells.

"How much do I owe you?" Harry asks the driver.

"Your mum paid me already. Get your things and shoo, now," The driver rolls up his window.

Harry quickly walks to the trunk and pulls out his duffle bag and the two suitcases. As soon as Harry slams the trunk shut the driver shoots away like a bullet.

Harry makes his way inside the airport. It's a struggle to get through customs and takes a while but Harry finally makes it to his terminal. A first class ticket clutched in his hand and duffle bag hung over his shoulder, Harry hurries through the security and makes it onto the airplane merely five minutes before departure. He's breathing heavily as he stuffs his duffle bag into the overhead compartment.

"Please secure your safety belts," A voice calls over the intercom.

Harry rapidly takes his seat and stares at the belt for a minute before figuring out how to attach it.

"Are you buckled in, sir?" A female flight attendant walks up to Harry.

"Yes, I think I got it," Harry pants, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"If you need anything let one of us attendants know," The lady smiles and walks on.

Harry grasps the armrests and gazes out the window as a few stragglers like himself sprint down toward the plane. When the last few people are in another announcement for seat belts is made and suddenly the plane starts moving.

"Shit," Harry whispers, as his breathing gets increasingly strained.

Harry has never flown before. The concept is slightly intimidating. To be suspended above earth's surface for so long is a scary thought.

Harry searches his pockets for his inhaler.

The airplane turns and accelerates down a runway.

Harry's eyes open wide and his fingers dig into the armrest. His breathing get's shallower and Harry fumbles to get the inhaler out of his pocket.

Suddenly the airplane is not touching land anymore. The ground outside Harry's window gets further and further away.

Harry brings the inhaler up to his mouth and pumps, taking deep breaths as he continues gazing out the window.

Soon they're so high up that the cars look like ants and the houses like little rectangles and squares. The clouds are right across from Harry up here.

Harry brings his camera up and removes the lens cover. He brings his camera closer to the small airplane window and snaps a shot. He closes his camera and leans back into his seat.

Harry feels slightly panicked at the idea of going to a new country and being alone. But from what he's heard, Chicago will be amazing. Harry takes a deep breath and thinks only positive thoughts. His modeling job will be really good. His new Uni will be crazy interesting. And he might find Louis. Everything will be alright.


	10. {Part II The Present}

There are two seats next to Harry's window seat. Both are empty. The entire flight contains empty seats here and there. This flight never got fully booked.

The flight lasts about ten hours and Harry spends his time rushing to and from the tiny bathroom.

When Harry is slowly making his way back to his seat he wonders if air sickness is a thing. It must be.

An announcement blares on, instructing passengers to take their seats and brace for turbulence. So, Harry does as told and quickly clambers into his seat. The turbulence seems to last forever. The entire plane wobbles and Harry's jaw clenches tight from fright. He knows they're above land yet, thoughts of the plane crashing into the middle of the ocean and him floating on a door, like Rose from "Titanic" flash through his mind.

He finally falls asleep then. For the last hour of the flight Harry sleeps, curled up on the seat, his head resting against the window.

The next announcement Harry wakes up to is that in ten minutes they will be landing in Chicago. Harry snaps his eyes open and grins. Wow, this is happening. This is real. He sits up straight and gazes out his window at the approaching Chicago skyline.

Harry had expected it to be dark by now, but then he realizes that timezones are thing. Chicago is six hours behind the UK. So, in the UK it might be near midnight now, but in Chicago the sun has yet to set.

On the seat next to Harry lies his camera. He blindly reaches over and pulls the Nikon camera out of it's bag. Harry brings the camera up to the tiny window and clicks a snapshot of the city below him. The city that contains Harry's future, and Louis Tomlinson.

Goosebumps ripple across his skin and Harry shivers. He's nervous and excited at the same time.

The camera doesn't go back in it's bag. Instead, Harry slings it around his neck.

When the plane finally lands Harry is the first one to bound up and out of his seat. He flips the overhead compartment open and yanks his duffle bag out. Harry quickly stuffs the camera bag into the bag and moves down the aisle as far as he can until he's prevented to move any further due to the line in front of him.

"Hey," A girl taps Harry's shoulder.

Harry turns and raises his eyebrows at her.

"Do you see a blue polka dot bag up there," A brown eyed girl asks, pointing to the overhead compartment. She's still wedged between the seats and cannot reach up there.

"Erm," It takes Harry a moment to work through her accent, "Yeah," Harry pushes his hair back and looks up. His eyes hone in on the small blue backpack and he lifts it out, "Here you are," He hands it to the girl.

"I like your accent," The girl grins, "I thought this flight was just full of Americans returning here."

"No, I suppose it isn't all Americans," Harry smiles, slowly, "I like your accent too," Harry says, his mind wavering to Louis. If Louis speaks like this now, and doesn't have his British accent anymore, that would be cute too.

The line moves and the girl quickly squeezes past Harry and in front of him, "Whoops, sorry for cutting," She grins and flips her long black ponytail back.

"Ah, you distracted me so you could cut in front of me," Harry laughs, "Clever one, aren't you?"

The girl turns back and tilts her head to the side, "The cleverest."

"You live here?" Harry asks the girl.

"On this plane? No," The girl says back.

"Oh, come on," Harry laughs, "You know what I meant."

"The city," The girl looks over her shoulder and nods at Harry, "For college, yes, I live here. I'm actually from Michigan."

"What college?" Harry suddenly asks, his interest peaking, "I'm going to the University of Chicago."

"No way, you stalker!" The girl turns around with a gasp.

"I- stalker?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"I go there!" The girl turns her back to Harry again and steps up forward, "We might see each other there."

The girl is quiet now and Harry searches for something to say. Maybe they can become friends. She does go to the same college. Harry would like to have a friend here. But Harry can't think of what to say so he just stands there and bites his bottom lip.

"What's your name?" The girl turns sideways so she can look at Harry.

"Harry," Harry smiles at her.

"Harry," The girl repeats, mimicking Harry's Cheshire accent, "Just Harry, or is it short for something?"

"Just Harry."

"Hello, Harry," the girl sticks out her hand, pronouncing his name just like Harry himself did, "My name is Xale."

Harry furrows his brow, "What?"

Xale rolls her eyes, "Xale. I don't know why. Don't even ask. My parents were super into digging up exotic, unique names. It kind of works now, but yeah, it's weird."

"Xale," Harry tries it out, "Like Yale."

"Yes, like the Ivy League college, Yale. Also, like kale, and mail, tail, and fail," Xale sidesteps forward to keep moving with the snail paced line of people exiting the flight.

"I like it," Harry grins, "Xale," He likes the way the name rolls off his tongue easily.

"You're quite tanned for being from the UK, aren't you?" Xale asks.

"I pride myself in my ability to maintain a tan," Harry says, half jokingly, "And your tan is quite nice too."

"Thanks," Xale flutters eye lashes extravagantly, "I like, use tanning beds twice a week."

"Haha," Harry rolls his eyes.

"Okay, it's my natural skin tone. I maintain my tan by staying inside and stressing over homework all the time," Xale sighs, "Tis the season to stress."

And finally, Harry and Xale make it to the front of first class and exit the airplane.

"Wooh," Xale pumps her fist in the air as they step out of the plane. Her mismatched bracelets jingle.

Harry finally gets a good look at her. She's only a few inches shorter than him and smaller in terms of width. She's wearing a white dress which looks like it might fall off the shoulders and her feet are stuffed into old high top converse, which are also white. Xale's arms are covered in multicolored mismatched bangles and bracelets. Over all, her dark eyes and hair go with her subtly tan skin.

"Hey," Xale snaps when she finds Harry looking at her, "Are you checking me out?"

"Sorry," Harry snaps his head away, "I wasn't checking you out. I was just looking at you."

Xale lets out a laugh, and Harry tentatively looks back at her.

"You're cute," Xale bumps Harry's arm with her shoulder, "Do you have a phone? Maybe we can meet up later and I can show you the city?"

"Yeah," Harry grins and reaches into his pocket, "Wait," he sighs, remembering that he is currently phone-less, "The company is going to give me a phone today. I don't have one right now. I couldn't bring my phone with me, you know? Would have cost a fortune to get an international plan or whatever."

Xale groans and pulls Harry over to a random counter which has a worker situated at it, "Hello sir, do you have a pen?" She asks the employee.

"Yes, ma'am," The worker smiles and hands Xale a pen.

"Come here, Harry," she pronounces Harry's name with the Cheshire accent every time she says it. Xale grabs Harry's arm and boldly writes a ten digit number across his arm. When she's done she looks up and flashes him a smile.

Harry thinks to himself that if it weren't for the black eyeliner her eyes probably wouldn't look so obviously brown, "Thanks."

When they're waiting for their luggage Harry's black suitcases roll out first and Xale helps him get them. Harry stands with Xale and waits till a bright yellow suitcase rolls out and Xale rushes up and yanks it off the conveyer belt.

"Call me later when you get your phone. Are you staying at the University or do you have an apartment?" Xale throws questions at Harry as they start walking toward the front of the airport again.

"I will and I'm actually staying in an apartment. The company is paying for it so I figured I'd take them up on their offer," Harry shrugs.

"Shut up," Xale slaps Harry's shoulder, "What type of company is this?"

"Modeling," Harry blushes as he says it. He doesn't feel like a model.

"Wow, I'm talking to a male model," Xale giggles, "Why are you going to Uni if you're a model?"

"I'm not a model yet," Harry looks down at his scuffed brown boots as he walks.

"Just starting?" Xale asks.

"Yes," Harry licks his lips and looks up again. They're approaching the exit fast.

"I'll see you later then, you future model," Xale looks up at Harry and pretends to tip a hat.

Harry smiles back, "Later."

When they exit through the sliding doors Harry pauses to try and find a sign containing his name. Xale keeps walking. When she's a few feet away Harry shouts her name and flicks on his camera. Xale spins around, loose strands of hair flying in the wind. Harry snaps a picture. Xale looks from the camera to Harry in surprise. Harry thinks she might walk up and tell him to delete the picture. Instead, Xale looks Harry up and down with an amused smile. Then she continues walking away.

Harry follows Xale with his eyes as she walks away. Suddenly, she breaks into run. Xale drops her suitcase and jumps onto a blonde guy who is about her height. He spins her around twice before sliding her off and onto her feet again. Then, he grabs her suitcase for her and they walk off. They look like they're in perfect synchrony. The guy reaches over and grabs Xale's hand, but she eases it out of his grasp and grabs his upper arm instead.

Harry sighs, and looks back into the crowd. This time, he spots a sign which says his name and he grins with excitement as he heads toward it. The sign is held by a man in a black suit. When Harry walks up and introduces himself the man pulls out a card and checks Harry's face on it. Then, he nods at Harry and leads him to a sleek black Jaguar. The car will be taking them straight to the modeling agency, Finesse.

Harry sits in the back with butterflies in his stomach and his heart in his throat. His eyes are fixated on the sun, which is slowly beginning to dip downward, behind the tall buildings. Orange, yellow and pink color streaks behind darkening building.


	11. {Part II The Present}

The meeting Harry is driven to is held over dinner. Harry is perfectly satisfied with the arrangement because he is absolutely famished. Airplane food is actually the worst.

Over dinner, the same man who drove Harry there discusses Harry's future career. It turns out his name is David, and he is Harry's agent.

David is a good five inches shorter than Harry. He has dark brown skin and black eyes. His hair is dark red, and cropped close to his head.

At this meeting, Harry finds out that he has one week before he has to start coming in for walking instructions. While those lessons are in action, Abercrombie will be taking Harry in for photo shoots.

"Abercrombie is literal shit," David points his fork at Harry.

Harry nods and cuts into the delectable steak.

"What is it?" David asks.

"Bad," Harry takes a bite.

"No, it is literal shit," David emphasizes.

"Really bad," Harry nods, trying not to swear at the moment, "Why is that?"

"It's so low in the world of fashion. Look at you," David points his fork at Harry, "Tall, tan, dark curls and green eyes. You could go places, boy. I'm talking Vogue Covers!" David shouts, "Burberry! Chanel!"

"Burberry," Harry nods, "Now, that is a goal."

David smiles as Harry shows some interest in something other than his food, "Good," David goes back to his meal, "Make goals, I'll help you reach them."

"I have goals," Harry bites his bottom lip and looks up. But Harry's not thinking about modeling. Harry's thinking about Louis.

"If you need anything, tell me," David takes another sip of his wine, "Drugs, steroids, anything."

Harry's fork slides out of his fingers and clatters onto the glass table, "No," He shakes his head, "I don't do drugs."

"That's what they all say at first," David waves at Harry.

Harry picks up his fork and changes the topic, "Are you going to show me my apartment later?"

"Yes, I will. I'll drive you there and drop you off outside," David takes a sip of his wine, "Perhaps you should look into getting a drivers license."

"I have one," Harry pauses for a second with his fork halfway to his mouth, "Well, I had one. How hard can it be to get a license again?"

"We drive on the opposite side of the road. Parallel parking will be on the opposite of what you are used to as well," David sighs, "Don't worry about the expenses, just get your license. If you don't, you'll be stuck taking the transit."

"I don't mind the transit," Harry shrugs, "But I will try for my license. Not that I have a car."

David laughs, "You'll have everything in due time, Harry. Look at you, you are destined for greatness."

...

Harry gets dropped off at his apartment at ten. It's four in the morning in the UK, so Harry doesn't call home. He'll call first thing in the morning, though.

Harry's apartment is a fairly decent size. It consists of a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. It's already furnished as well. For Harry, who hopped off the plane with nothing but clothing, this is a wonderful thing.

Harry does call Xale though. He adds her number to his contacts and spells it as Zale. Just how it's pronounced.

"Yo," Xale answers the call.

"Hello," Harry says awkwardly.

"No, I don't want to buy your crap," Xale replies and the line goes dead.

Harry pulls his newly gifted iPhone 7 away from his face and stares at the screen. What? Did she really think he was trying to sell her something? All he said was a simple hello. Harry tries again.

"Hello?" Xale asks, with a question in her voice.

"It's Harry," Harry quickly blurts out so she won't disconnect the call again, "From the airport."

"Harry! I remember who you are!" Xale excitedly yelps, "Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice at first. Wait, do you want to meet up right now? I was going to-"

"I was thinking tomorrow," Harry says, not wanting to interrupt whatever she was going to do.

"Are you busy right now?" Xale slowly asks.

"No," Harry replies.

"Then, right now should be perfectly fine," Xale says, "Can I have an address?"

"It's so late though, I assumed you would be occupied," Harry mentions.

"No," Xale laughs, "I'm not occupied. Come on Harry, I'll show you the city!"

"Alright," Harry agrees. He is tired but hey, the city awaits.

Harry gives Xale his address and gently sets his delicate looking phone on the kitchen counter. He then proceeds to carry his bags from the front door of the apartment to the back, where the bedroom is.

The front door of the apartment leads into a large empty spacious area which must be the living room. Off to one side is a television with a semi circle shaped couch in front of it. It looks as though it could easily seat four people. Near the back, the kitchen takes up one half of the apartment and the other area is closed off, containing a bedroom.

Harry opens the bedroom door and steps inside with his bags. He flicks the light on and looks around.

The bedroom is bigger than the one he had back at home in Cheshire. It contains a bed, a dresser and two doors. One of the doors opens to a walk-in closet. The second door opens to a dainty looking bathroom which contains a hot tub.

Harry grins at the hot tub. Back home, only his mum's bathroom had a hot tub, but she never used it, neither did Gemma. Harry was the only one who ever used it, so he's glad to have one here as well.

As he does with most things, Harry snaps a picture of the four rooms in the house. Memories can be made, but memories fade. Pictures don't fade, not as fast as memories.

When Harry is done taking a shower and changing his clothes he begins emptying his bags. He's almost done with the last bag when he hears a faint knock. The knock is then followed by a doorbell which chimes through the apartment in an echo-like fashion.

That must be Xale at the door. Harry quickly shoves his jeans back into his bag and heads for the exit. He reaches the apartment door and pulls it open, Xale stands there with a huge smile plastered across her face. Right next to her, stands the blonde guy Harry had seen her jump onto earlier.

"Hey!" Xale shouts and gets on her tiptoes to squish Harry into a hug.

"Hi," Harry hugs her back, still gazing at the blonde male.

"This is Niall," Xale takes a deep breath and stands next to the blonde guy.

Niall's barely taller than Xale and he wears a small, friendly smile. The two have appearances that don't quite fit. Niall is standing there in all black with his blonde hair perfectly done up in a quiff. Xale has dark long messy hair curling down to her waist and a dark red dress with jewels incrusted around the neckline. Where as Niall is completely devoid of any accessories, Xale is dazzling off a load of bangles on her arms and multiple rings on her right hand.

"Hi, Niall," Harry reaches out and shakes Niall's hand.

"Hey," Niall claps Harry's soft hand firmly in his rough one.

"He came along because he wanted to make sure you weren't going to murder me," Xale rolls her eyes and steps inside, shoving past Harry, "What a loser."

Niall sighs at Xale and looks apologetically at Harry.

Harry just shrugs and steps back so Niall can enter as well, "Good thinking, I am a stranger after all."

"Nice place," Xale nods, "Oh!" She spins around, "You didn't invite me in, I'm so rude! I just barged in!"

"It's fine," Harry laughs.

"When are you not rude?" Niall throws in.

"No one asked for your opinion, breadstick," Xale says without looking at Niall.

"I could show you around," Harry offers, "Though, it is quite small and I just got here too. My bedroom is a great size though."

Harry shows Xale and Niall around his apartment quickly. There are only four rooms, it doesn't take long at all.

"I heard you're a model," Niall says as he settles down onto the couch in the living room.

"Yeah?" Harry glances up at Xale, who is busy on her phone at the moment, "I kind of am. I'm only just starting."

"And, you're going to University of Chicago?" Niall pushes on.

"Yes," Harry nods.

"Let's head out," Xale suddenly snaps her head up, "We can go to the Sears tower."

"What's that?" Harry asks.

"It's a tower," Xale shrugs.

Harry looks to Niall.

"It's called Willis Tower, now" Niall corrects.

Harry nods, "A Willisears tower."

Niall, Xale and Harry exchange eye contact at Harry's pun until Xale bursts out laughing. Harry smiles at her response.

"Are you ready?" Xale asks Harry.

Harry looks down at his white shirt and sweatpants, "Actually, I'm gonna change my pants," Harry spins around and dashes into his room.

Harry slips on ripped, black skinny jeans and socks. Then, he pulls on socks and brown boots and steps out of his room.

"Typical," Xale says.

"Typical?" Harry scoffs, "This is a classic look."

"Classic?" Xale laughs, "Sure, come on."

Then, they're off. Harry locks his apartment door behind himself and follows Xale and Niall down the hallway.


	12. {Part II The Present}

The three walk around the darkened city for a bit. Harry's Nikon camera swings against his ribs, following the rhythm of his walk. When something interesting pops up, Harry snaps a picture of it, but this only happens a couple times. Then, the trio finally reach the top of the Sea- Willis Tower.

"Lord," Harry whispers, staring at the glass floor, "We're so high up," He gasps at the buildings and streets hundreds of feet below him.

"Get up here," Xale motions from the glass box.

"No," Harry shakes his head wildly, his curls bouncing around, "What if it breaks?"

"It won't," Niall says, "Here, can you take a picture of us?" Niall hands Harry his phone.

Harry reaches for the camera swung around his neck, "I can take it on here."

"That's honestly just embarrassing," Niall shoves his iphone into Harry's hand and steps up, next to Xale.

"No, it's not embarrassing," Xale pushes her hair behind her shoulders, "It's his thing."

"He looks like a tourist," Niall snorts, "Seriously, Harry, you're going to be living here, ditch the huge camera when you're hanging out."

Harry smiles at Niall, "It actually is my thing. Just like your thing is bleaching your hair. Just because you like it, doesn't mean everyone does."

"Shots fired," Xale quietly whispers.

Niall narrows his eyes and turns his head to Xale, who busies herself with looking innocent and smoothing out her dress.

Harry considers telling Niall he didn't mean to be rude, but the moment has passed now, "What's your pose?" Harry holds up the thin iphone 7, his hand nearly engulfing the entire thing.

Niall lightly places his arm around Xale's shoulders and they both smile. Just as Harry clicks the picture, Xale ducks down and ruins it. She quickly gets behind Niall while laughing and launches herself onto his back.

"Airplane, be the airplane!" She stretches her arms out horizontally and makes a buzzing noise.

Niall, who is bent forward from Xale's weight laughs, "Airplane it is."

Harry grins at them, softly. It's kind of rude of them to be such a cute couple when he doesn't even know where Louis is. Not that they know anything about Louis...

"Arms out," Xale tells Niall.

"Arms out," Niall stretches his arms out and smiles up at Harry.

Harry takes three pictures, "Done," He announces, "I took three so you can choose the best one.

Xale slides off of Niall and lightly pushes him toward Harry, "Niall, take a picture of me and Harry."

"He doesn't want to get on the glass," Niall mutters as he stalks toward Harry.

"Harry, come on," Xale extends her hand out, "Niall can take the picture on your camera if you want."

Harry looks down at the black camera, "I do like pictures," He looks back up at Xale, "The glass didn't break yet so it must be safe."

"It is," Xale rolls her eyes, "I keep telling you, it's fine."

"He's probably scared of heights," Niall throws out a guess.

"Who isn't?" Harry takes his camera off and hangs it on Niall's shoulders.

Niall raises an eyebrow at the camera.

"Just click this button," Harry points to a round silver button.

"I know," Niall smacks Harry's hand away and Harry grins.

Harry takes Xale's hand and slowly steps onto the glass. It doesn't break. Looking down, it seems like he's flying above the city. Harry grins to himself as he lightly taps the glass with his boot. He glances up and catches Xale smiling at him with amusement.

"Um," Harry blushes and releases Xale's hand, "This is alright," He turns toward Niall.

Xale hugs Harry, "Say Chicagi!"

"Chicagi?" Harry laughs and the bright white camera flash washes over them.

"Well, you can't say Chicago without looking like a fish," Xale nudges Harry off the glass and steps off behind him, "It's like you don't even know anything, Harry!" She says with mock annoyance.

Harry grins and musses her hair in response.

Harry thinks to himself, Xale may give off a goofy vibe at first, but she's so much more than that. She's caring in the most subtlest ways, the ways someone might not notice at all. The way she won't let Niall talk him down even if Niall isn't trying to be rude, and how she made him step off the glass first because she knows he's afraid.

It's kind of crazy to think that Harry wasn't able to make many friends back home after Louis left. Upon coming here, Harry found Xale and Niall on the first day. Maybe it's not about the place being Chicago instead of Cheshire, maybe it's just that Harry is feeling optimistic and looking up, rather than down. When looking up, you can't miss anything, and when looking down, you miss everything.

Harry, Niall and Xale keep walking around Chicago. At one point, Niall and Xale start dancing to a street performer playing violin. Harry claps his hands and laughs as they dance under the city lights. A few pedestrians also grin their way.

Harry suddenly feels a pang of emptiness as he watches them dance. So, he pulls out his camera and snaps a picture to change his train of thought. He needs a picture of Niall anyway.

When they're done dancing, Niall thanks the violin player and sets money in his case. Harry stifles a yawn and rubs the back of his neck.

"Sleepy?" Xale asks.

"Yeah," Harry replies, "Cheshire is six hours ahead, you know?"

"I had forgotten," Xale says.

"It's gonna take about half an hour to get to the car," Niall walks over, "We can drop you off now if you want, or we can stop somewhere to eat."

"I already had dinner," Harry waves them off.

"He's a model, he can't eat too late," Xale tells Niall.

Harry pulls a sheepish look, "No."

"Then, ice cream?" She whirls around and grins at Harry.

"Ice cream for dinner?" Niall questions, "We should take him to a pizza place. Chicago Pizza is a thing. Ever heard of Lou Malnati's?

Xale rolls her eyes, "Harry and I are getting ice cream."

"Alright, your turn to pay," Niall shrugs.

"Covered," Xale pats her bag.

On their walk to an ice cream shop, Xale briefs Harry on the college details. Niall walks behind them both, his eyes cautiously glancing between Harry and Xale.

"I still need to do an orientation," Harry interrupts Xale.

"Don't worry! I can show you around," Xale turns her head to Niall, "We both can."

Niall raises his eyebrows and his lips perk up into a smile, "Sure," Niall nods.

...

Harry sighs and locks his apartment door behind himself. He kicks off his brown boots and shuffles into the kitchen to get rid of the empty ice cream container. As soon as he's about to turn into his bedroom the doorbell rings. Annoyed, Harry walks back toward the door and peeps out through the tiny eye hole to see a fishbowl like image of Niall's face against the hallway.

Harry swings open the door, "What's up?" He looks down at Niall.

"You forgot your camera," Niall holds it out to Harry.

"Oh," Harry stares at the camera tiredly for a moment before realizing he's supposed to take it back, "Thank you."

"Sure," Niall stuff his hands into his pockets and awkwardly glances down the hallway, "So, you're British?"

"Yes," Harry replies, "I am. You're American?"

"Sure," Niall shrugs, but Harry already knows that's not completely true. Every now and then, Niall's perfect Chicago accent slips and the Irish can be distinctly heard, "So," Niall drawls.

Harry yawns and leans against the doorframe, "Yeah?"

"You're tall, British and a model with a deep voice and have long hair," Niall nods.

Harry raises an eyebrow at Niall, confused about where this conversation is going.

"Okay, I'm going to say it straight up," Niall sternly says, standing up straighter.

"Say what?" Harry asks.

"Xale is obviously intent on being your friend, and I don't mind. I think you're a pretty decent person. I'd like to be friends too. But, don't ever think Xale is into you," Niall nervously runs a hand through his hair.

Harry lets out a sad laugh, "Seriously, Niall? I already have someone I'm-," Harry catches himself before he can finish, "Don't worry, I know you guys are dating-"

"We're not," Niall interrupts, "We're not dating."

"Really?" Harry narrows his eyes, "But you two look like you are."

"She's just weird like that," Niall shakes his head, "She loves everything, and everyone"

"But you," Harry studies the carefully placed poker face on Niall, "You love her?"

"I-" Niall's pale face flushes red in an instant, "I'm not here to talk about that."

Harry laughs at Niall, a mirror reflection of himself. Both of them unable to confess things they feel strongly about, "You do love her," Harry reaches out and pats Niall's shoulder, "That's why you're up here warning me because you don't want me to get in the way."

"No," Niall's face is glowing red now, "That's not it, I just feel protective about my best friend."

"You're so flustered, don't lie to me. I won't tell her," Harry laughs again and turns his camera on.

"What are you doing? You are not going to take a picture of me blushing face!" Niall's Irish accent unapologetically breaks through as he reaches for the camera.

Harry holds the camera above his head, and out of Niall's reach, "Fine, fine, I won't."

Niall straightens himself out and looks at Harry, "Okay, well, goodnight."

"Goodnight," Harry nods.

"Don't tell her," Niall says with a warning tone.

"I won't tell a soul," Harry smiles.

"See you around campus then," Niall turns and heads down the hallway.

"Campus," Harry whispers to himself, his smile falling, "Great... school," He groans quietly and slams the door shut.

...

Harry lays back on his bed and smiles at the ceiling. The whole Niall and Xale thing is cute and kind of sad... But mainly cute. Harry thinks to himself that he will help out Niall's case and get Xale to like him if she doesn't already. But then again, according to Niall she loves everything. So, she technically already loves Niall.

If Louis were here, he would probably be texting Xale the details right now and telling her to give Niall a chance because the poor lad is entirely whipped.

Louis... Is he sleeping right now?

Harry rolls out of bed and walks to the curtained window. He yanks the curtains apart and gazes out across the city.

Louis is right here, in this city.

"We're in the same city," Harry whispers to the window, "It's like we're practically married," He laughs at his joke and rests his head against the window.

There's a few people walking on the sidewalks below Harry. There's cars rolling through the street with bright headlights. Then suddenly, all the cars pull over to the sides and stop.

Harry narrows his eyes at the street for a moment, then a faint siren reaches Harry's ears and he pulls his head off the glass.

A black car with no headlights bolts down the street and screeches around a corner. Two police cars follow closely behind it. One of them turns behind the car and the other one continues on straight.

Harry uncomfortably straightens out his back and heads back toward his bed. He lies back down in bed and curls into a ball. He's crazy tired but he just can't seem to sleep. The reason why he can't sleep is obvious to him. Louis is so close, it's as if Harry's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, running around it's field of flowers. How can he possibly fall asleep?


	13. {Part II The Present}

Harry sighs and gets out of bed again. It's absolutely impossible to go to sleep right now. He runs a hand through his hair and heads back to the window.

As soon as Harry reaches the window, a tapping sounds from it. Harry freezes, hand halfway to the curtain. The tapping noise erupts the silence again. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry nears the window and carefully peeks through the minuscule crack between the curtains. What he sees almost sends him into shock.

"Louis!" Harry throws open the curtain and gapes at the face before him.

Louis looks the same as he did when he was barely a teenager, the only difference appears to be a greater definition of his facial features.

Louis smiles at Harry and taps the window again, motioning to unlock it.

"Yeah, I'll open it!" Harry quickly unbolts the window and pulls it open. Weirdly, there is no screen in the window to remove.

"Hello, mate," Louis grins from outside, his arms resting on the windowsill.

"Louis, get inside!" Harry shouts, "We're on the fifteenth floor for crying out loud," Harry reaches for Louis' hands.

Louis laughs and pushes off the windowsill.

"No!" Harry leans out to grab him and practically tumbles out.

Louis, on the other hand, floats up beside Harry with ease, "What on Earth are you doing, Harry?" Louis chides, shoving Harry back inside.

"I-" Harry sticks his upper body back out and stares at Louis.

"Idiot," Louis rolls his eyes and pushes Harry inside, then sits down on the windowsill.

"You can fly?" Harry gasps, slowly reaching out to touch Louis' shoulder.

"Of course, I can," Louis nods, "Now, do you plan on coming with me in your boxers?"

Harry looks down and blushes, realizing that all he is wearing is black boxers.

"It gets cold when you're flying up high," Louis swings his legs inside and stands up straight.

"Let me put something on," Harry rushes to his bed, where a pair of jeans and a sweater seem to have appeared out of nowhere. He quickly slings on his clothes and spins around, "Louis?"

"Yes," Louis smiles.

"Where you have been this whole time?" Harry sighs, "I've been so alone."

"I was busy, Harry," Louis walks to Harry and smiles at him, "I hope you understand," He leans in slightly, their faces perfectly parallel. They both are the same height.

Harry doesn't understand. But, Louis is here now and that is all that matters, "I do understand."

"Come on, then," Louis takes Harry's hands and walks backward to the window, "Let me take you with me."

"Let's go," Harry nods eagerly.

"Wouldn't you at least like to know where?" Louis giggles.

"As long as you're with me, I don't think I really care where we go," Harry blushes, realizing how sappy he sounds.

Louis laughs again and jumps out the window, "Are you coming?" He calls up.

Without even hesitating for a minute, Harry steps up onto the window ledge, crouches through the opening and springs out into the cool night air. Harry drops down quickly. For a second, panic seizes him when he remembers that he cannot fly, but then he's grabbed around the waist.

"Careful, Harry," Louis whispers in his ear, "Don't just jump around like a cat. You have to try to jump near me, or I might not be able catch you."

Harry sets his arms over Louis', eyes still wide as he stares at the street below him, "You caught me."

"I did," Louis hoists Harry up, so he's no longer hanging off of Louis' arm, "Step on my feet."

Harry flails his feet around till they land on Louis' soft sneakers. He doesn't remember putting on shoes, but he can feel his boots snugly fitted around his feet.

"Now, turn around," Louis says.

Harry stands on Louis' feet, thinking of a way to turn himself around, "I can't."

Louis pulls his feet away and spins Harry around by the waist, "How's this?" He smirks, floating above Harry.

"This is nice," Harry grins, his hands moving up to grab ahold of Louis' denim jacket.

Louis pulls Harry up against his chest, cradling him in both his arms, "Hold on tight."

Harry tightly fists Louis jacket in his hands and wraps his legs around Louis' torso.

"This will be quick," Louis tucks Harry's head down against his shoulder.

Harry's breath catches momentarily as the wind around them speeds up dramatically. It takes him a moment to realize that it is not the wind that has sped up. It is them. They are moving forward through the dark night. Harry slowly peeks up from Louis' shoulder, but from here, all he can see is an overcast sky.

Louis takes Harry to the top of the Willis Tower, and lowers them down at the edge, "Here we are."

Harry unwraps his legs and finds his footing along the ledge of the building, "We're right on the edge," Harry whispers, as his right foot slides back and off the roof.

"Don't worry, princess," Louis whispers.

As soon as Louis says the word, he changes. Louis is fourteen, Harry is twelve, and they're standing right on the edge of the damn Sears Tower.

"Louis," Harry whines, "I told you, I'm afraid of heights."

"Just look at the city lights," Louis replies, slowly turning Harry around.

"I'm falling!" Harry shouts as his left foot also loses it's footing. Louis turns Harry around and Harry is only held up by Louis' arms. He stares down at the dark city as confusion contorts his face, "There are no lights left."

"I took them all," Louis giggles and his arms release Harry, "And now, I'm leaving."

"Louis!" Harry lets out a scream and arches his back, trying to reach up toward Louis. But Louis just stands there, a shadow against the pale moon. Harry falls down into darkness.

"Lou-" Harry's eyes snap open from his own shouting. His gaze flicks around the dimly lit room, "Woah," Harry mutters, realizing he was talking in his sleep.

He turns over and curls into himself, remnants of the dream swirling around his mind. Harry's eyes land on the clock, and he realizes it is ten in the morning. The curtains sure do a good job of keeping the sun out.

What to do today? Harry doesn't have to report to the agency till next week. Maybe, he should finish up his college business. He still needs an orientation of the campus. Classes will be starting next week and he's probably supposed to know where the different buildings are. Or... Harry could walk around the city, hoping he bumps into Louis. Yes. That last option seems best. First, however, he has an important task to do.

Harry picks up his phone and dials a familiar number, home. The phone rings twice before it's snatched up.

"Harry?" Anne's voice desperately breathes over the phone.

"Mum," Harry says, "Hi."

Harry spends ten minutes telling his mum about the airplane ride and his agent. He even tells his mum about Xale and Niall. But then, Anne has to go back to work for another shift and tells Harry to call her later.

With a sigh, Harry finally pushes himself off his bed and into the bathroom.


	14. {Part II The Present}

Harry spends his day wandering around the city while keeping an eye out for anyone who may resemble Louis.

The sky is overcast and the windy city is living up to it's name. It's summer but still, a cool breeze blows around, keeping the temperatures bearable. The streets are busy all the time in Chicago. It's like London, almost. Except to Harry, everything here seems to look a lot newer and the people seem to walk faster.

Harry walks down Michigan Avenue, striped shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest and black skinny jeans looking like they're painted on his long legs. People's heads turn as he walks by, Harry notices, but he doesn't care. He continues onward, eyes blindly glazing over the masses of people.

In and out of shops, Harry walks around without really buying anything. He's observing the city and hoping to end up seeing Louis. But alas, the last part of his plan doesn't quite seem to be working out well.

Well past noon, Harry feels a gnawing in his stomach and realizes that he's hungry. Despite not knowing where he's at, Harry walks into a random Indian restaurant. The place is set up quite simply, there's a counter, tables and a kitchen must be hidden somewhere in the back.

There's a line at the counter, so Harry steps into it. He ends up behind a couple who are fervently speaking Chinese. At least it sounds like Chinese. Harry is uneducated on that language, he's only heard it a few times back in the UK.

Up ahead, Harry thinks he hears a familiar voice. Only when the line moves forward and Harry see's the employee at the counter does he realize why the voice sounded so similar. It's Niall. Niall works at an Indian restaurant in the middle of Chicago.

Niall takes a look at Harry and sighs, "Hi, Harry, what can I get for you?"

Harry smiles big and wide, "Hey, Niall. Have you had a nice day?"

"Well, I'm off my shift in ten minutes, so yes. Splendid day," Niall longingly stares at the wall clock to his right, "Anyway, what did you want?"

"Uh, can I," Harry pauses and looks above Niall's head at the menu. He already has his favorite from home in mind but he looks anyway, incase something changes his mind, "Um, tika masala, rice and naan bread," He spits out his favorite, trying to pronounce it heavily so as to match the Indian accent.

"Naan bread," Niall snorts.

"What?" Harry defensively asks, "I said that right."

Niall lets out a laugh, "Naan, it's just naan. Also, you didn't give me a quantity but I got it covered, seven eighty, sir."

"Sir," Harry shoots his eyebrows up and sticks out a credit card.

Niall takes it, swipes and hands it back to Harry, "You're number five, go get a seat and we'll call your number when the order is ready."

"Alright," Harry nods and looks behind himself for a table.

"Harry?"

Harry looks back at Niall, "Yeah?"

"Move."

"Oh," Harry steps out of the line he's been blocking and strides away to the first open table he spots.

The table is small and round with four chairs lined around it.

Harry's all alone. For a while, he looks around at the various types of people in the restaurant. Then, he looks back down at the dark, wood table. He doesn't hear his number being called, but his food gets set in front of him, gently.

"You didn't order a drink," Niall says as he sets a glass of water down in front of Harry, "Will this do?"

Harry looks up and smiles at Niall, "It'll do," He says, observing the bleached blonde who's tending to him.

"Cool," Niall removes his green, white and orange apron and slides into the the seat in front of Harry with a sigh. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

"So, you work here?" Harry asks, breaking off a piece of the naan bread and dipping it into the tika masala.

"No, I just like to walk in at random intervals and take people's orders," Niall opens his eyes and gives Harry an obvious look.

Harry giggles, "I'm just trying to make conversation, why an Indian restaurant?"

"Because the Indian and Irish flag have the same colors," Niall raises the apron pointedly.

Harry blinks, "Seriously, that's why?"

"Because I needed a job and cooking lessons, this covers both," Niall cracks a smile and runs his eyes over Harry, "What are you doing anyway?"

Harry shrugs as he swallows, "I'm just out walking."

"Which way?" Niall asks.

"That way," Harry says, pointing to his right.

"East," Niall shakes his head, "You might as well head back before you go too far."

"Why? What's too far?" Harry curiously asks.

"For one, Boystown, and also, the area just gets bad after that."

"What's Boystown?" Harry asks.

"It's a place where most of the gays and lesbians hang out," Niall shrugs, "They can be rude to straight people sometimes."

"No," Harry shakes his head. He's slightly excited at the idea of a gay community nearby, "People are all different. You probably just met a rude person," Harry looks down and picks up his spoon, stirring the spicy broth, "Just like all Muslims aren't terrorists, and all feminists aren't man-haters, all gays aren't horrible people. You see, you meet a few horrible people who don't resemble the crowd at all and suddenly you have a bad and wrong image of the crowd."

"Alright," Niall nods, "I see your point. I'm not saying all gays are bad or anything. I was sharing a bad experience. Also, past that the city just gets bad at night. The west is the worst, especially after dark.

"I live in the west, quite west," Harry's eyes widen.

"Harry, you're fine where you live. There's just small pockets of bad areas. I'll tell you everything later, finish eating for now," Niall waves his hand at Harry to continue.

When Harry's finished, Niall asks him, "You know where you're going?"

"Uh," Harry steps outside the restaurant in front of Niall and looks up and down the street, "Actually, no."

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Niall asks, "I said I was going to tell you about Eastside and Westside anyway.

"Oh, yeah," Harry steps close to Niall as they begin walking.

By the time they reach a subway station, Harry is standing there buzzing with new knowledge of the two biggest gangs in Chicago and their intense rivalry.

"Word is that Westside got a new member a few years ago and he rose to the top really fast," Niall's voice is barely above a whisper as they stand in an underground transit stop at the back of the crowd, "They're supposedly doing a lot better than Eastside right now."

"Oh, God," Harry whispers.

"What?" Niall's head snaps around, "Is someone staring? Did someone hear?"

"No," Harry shakes his head, "Last night I saw police cars chasing some car in the street below my apartment."

Niall looks up at Harry with a furrowed brow, "Then I would suggest you be careful around there at night."

"I'm kind of scared," Harry admits.

Niall raises his eyebrows, "You're six feet tall and well built and you're scared?"

Harry pouts and glances away, "People can have feelings."

"I'm teasing," Niall chuckles, "Xale is right, you're something special."

"She said I'm special?" Harry asks, looking back at Niall.

"Yeah," Niall nods, "Not in that kind of way-"

"Niall," Harry interrupts, "I get it. You like her, and she's too nice to everyone. I know."

"Okay," It's Niall's turn to be embarrassed now and though he doesn't look away his cheeks flare up red again.

A slow, sly grin spreads across Harry's face and he looks away. He thinks to himself then, that he is so going to play matchmaker between Xale and Niall. He's going to make this happen. And in the end, it'll be him and Louis, and Xale and Niall. This can happen. This is a nice goal to have.

"Transit is here," Niall grabs Harry's wrist and drags him forward, "We have to stick together."

Harry follows behind, getting jostled by people who could care less about who they're bumping into or how harshly. They're almost on the transit when someone roughly grabs Harry's upper arm.

"Ouch, my arm," Harry pulls his arm forward and spins around. But no one is there.

"Harry?" Niall looks back.

"Someone grabbed my arm," Harry says, pulling his wrist out of Niall's hand to rub his arm.

"Must have been an accident, come on," Niall says.

"Yeah," Harry looks back for a second, "An accident," then he follows Niall's blonde head into the stuffed train. When he can, he reaches forward and grabs Niall's flannel, following him down the lane.

An old women gives Harry a dirty look and glances down at the way he's caught a hold of Niall's shirt, "Is you okay little white boy?" She asks, spit spraying out of her mouth.

Harry nods and blindly walks forward, slamming into Niall's back, causing Niall to stumble into the person in front of him.

"Watch it, fag!" The guy in front of Niall shouts back.

Niall turns back with narrowed eyes and looks at Harry.

"Hey," Harry taps the man's shoulder.

"What?" The man growls, turning around and viciously glaring at Niall.

"Wasn't me!" Niall lifts his hands up.

"Fag isn't an insult," Harry politely says to the short old man.

The old man looks up at Harry, "Oh," He glances between Harry and Niall, "Fine, whatever."

Niall gives Harry a confused look and Harry smiles, acting like the man didn't just believe him and Niall to be a gay couple.


	15. {Part II The Present}

"There's no seats," Harry whispers in Niall's ear.

Niall cranes his neck away from Harry's face, "I can see that."

"Now we have to stand," Harry sighs, breathing on Niall's neck.

"Can you at least not breathe on me?" Niall lightly elbows Harry in the chest, "Traveling in this throng of people is as hard as it is."

Harry moves his head back but ends up with Niall's hair right in his face, "Didn't realize you were so aggressive about your personal space."

"Shut up," Niall responds as he steps out of the immediate aisle way and grabs onto a pole to steady himself.

"I've never been on a subway," Harry says he steps up and grabs onto the same pole Niall is holding onto.

The doors snap closed and Harry wraps his hands tightly around the only stabilizing object he has. When he glances down at Niall, Niall is full on grinning at him.

"What?" Harry asks?

His question is answered when the transit lurches forward. Harry's body swings backward before he pulls himself tightly to the pole. But he's already bumped into a lady who is currently swearing at him.

"Fucking no good filth, can't you stand straight?" She screeches, "What are you? Are you a pickpocket?"

Harry's eyes are wide as he stares at Niall. Niall throws his head back and let's out a loud laugh.

"Sorry," Harry calls over his shoulder.

"Oh, now you're faking an accent so I'll accept your apology?" The lady who Harry cannot see goes on, "Well, I'm not going to."

Harry winces as he gets hit with the woman's bag right between his shoulder blades, "Ow, that was unnecessary!"

Niall slaps Harry's hand to get his attention. When Harry looks up he places a finger over his lips, shoulders shaking from silent laughter.

"There he goes with the fake accent!" The woman hits Harry with her bag again.

Harry frowns at Niall. This is not what he thought the transit would be like. Thankfully, he'll be getting his license and a car soon, so he won't have to deal with this.

The two finally reach the stop closest to Harry's apartment and hop off the transit.

"You have a car, why would you ride that thing?" Harry gasps as they're walking to Harry's apartment.

"Please, tell me you don't expect me to drive with the traffic we get here," Niall snorts, "I'm not paying for gas just to waste it all by spending two hours at a standstill in the street."

Harry wants to roll his eyes but Niall has a point. So, Harry settles for a pout instead, "I know, I know. But still, that was horrid."

"Only for you," Niall replies.

Harry glances over at Niall and Niall grins hugely.

"You're evil," Harry shakes his head.

"And you're," Niall pauses, "You're you."

Harry raises an eyebrow mauling over whether that was an insult or not.

They're a block away from Harry's apartment building when a noise in an alleyway catches Niall's attention. Niall grabs Harry's hand and pulls him to a stop. Harry confusedly stares at Niall till a scream echoes out of the alleyway a few feet in front of them. Harry panics at the sound and steps backwards, staring at Niall.

Niall nods his head behind them and they both quickly turn on their heel, walking back in the direction they were coming from.

"What was that?" Harry asks when they're a few buildings away from that particular alleyway.

"That is the type of sound you walk the hell away from unless you want to get shot in the head," Niall says to Harry, "We can cross the street now and head to your apartment."

Harry doesn't reply. He just looks at the ground and keeps walking.

"Or you can come with me to visit the college campus and maybe Xale?" Niall throws in another option.

Harry looks up at that, "Yeah, I wanted to get a tour of the campus in. It's quite big, I'd surely get lost there."

"Come on, Harry, don't look so down," Niall bumps his shoulder into Harry's arm.

"Is that normal in Chicago?" Harry asks, referring to the scream he heard earlier.

"No," Niall shakes his head, "But when you hear someone being beat up in an alley you need to walk away," Niall firmly tells Harry, "If you interfere there is a high chance you'll just get shot."

"Got it," Harry nods as they stop at a crossroad, "No helping people who are getting beat up in an alley."

"Atta boy," Niall jokingly claps Harry on the back, "As your father, I am very proud."

Harry crinkles his eyes and gives Niall a confused, yet amused smile, "Thank you, father."

***

After Niall has shown Harry most of the campus he leads him to the dorms where they'll find Xale.

"Are you sure she'll be in her dorm?" Harry asks as him and Niall walk up the stairway.

"Yeah, Xale has no life. All she does is study and work," Niall huffs, "And currently, she is an unemployed bum so she just lays around being a potato."

"Xale," Niall shouts when they reach her floor.

"Why are you yelling?" Harry asks, furrowing his brow.

"It makes everyone hate her for having loud friends," Niall shrugs, "Xale Kale!"

"You like people hating her?" Harry questions.

"I'm actually doing her a favor," Niall convincingly replies as he knocks loudly on a closed door, "Xale!"

"What, Horan?" Xale pulls her dorm room door open and glares out at Niall, "You have a key, are you too stupid to use it?"

"I'm polite," Niall retorts, "You could have been changing for all I know."

"Well, this is why you text or call before coming over," Xale shakes her head.

"I brought company," Niall nods his head at Harry.

Xale finally seems to notice Harry's presence and her annoyed expression turns into a huge grin, "Harry!"

"Xale!" Harry matches Xale's tone.

"Good, you brought him over!" Xale grabs both Niall and Harry by the arm and drags them inside, "Now, listen!"

"No," Niall replies, "Whatever you were going to ask, no."

"I am not asking, I am commanding," Xale winks, "Somebody from our college reserved Millennium Park for a party tonight."

"You can do that?" Niall raises an eyebrow.

"It's Wednesday," Harry says.

"I guess you can. And yes, Harry, it is Wednesday " Xale nods at Harry.

"Must be a rich fucker to have done that," Niall shakes his head.

"Who parties on Wednesday?" Harry slowly questions.

Xale nods excitedly, "Right? I think it's that soccer boy who I used to be kind of friends with. We don't really talk anymore, but we should still go. And, Harry, college kids party whenever."

"Wow, I'm so in!" Niall lets out a whoop and falls back onto Xale's bed.

"I'm so confused," Harry interjects.

"You're in, Harry, you're in," Xale smiles.

"I don't know how to party," Harry sits down beside Niall.

Xale shrugs, "All you do is show up and take the free food and drinks."

***

Then, it's nine at night and Xale and Niall are at Harry's apartment, going through his closet and last unpacked bag as they try to help him get dressed.

"Well," Xale stands up and throws seven pairs of black jeans at Harry, "I guess you should first off wear a pair of black skinny jeans since that is all you have!" She shouts.

Harry catches the jeans, "Hey, I have shorts and sweats too."

"Bro, no one wears shorts or sweats to a party if they want to look good," Niall shakes his head.

"Niall's wearing all black himself, I don't get why all my black jeans bother you," Harry throws the jeans back at Xale.

Xale isn't looking and the clothes fall on her head before sliding onto the floor, "Niall is exactly the reason why I have a problem with people owning seven pairs of black jeans."

"I- what?" Niall shoves Xale's shoulder with his arm.

"It's tru- what is this?" A small smirk spreads across Xale's face, "Oh, my, gosh, yes."

"What?" Harry asks, getting off his bed to stand up by Xale and Niall.

"Hell, yes," Xale whispers, pulling out a sheer shirt, and then another, and another, "These are really hot, Harry."

"Not really," Niall says, picking one up and examining it.

"They're just shirts," Harry says.

"Wear this with your black jeans," Xale spins around and shoves a sheer, white, striped shirt into Harry's hands, "Oh, and can I borrow this black one?" She asks, holding up a plain, black, sheer button down.

"Sure," Harry shrugs, "I don't know how good it would look over your floral dress, especially since your sleeves are flared."

"Oh, it's not for me," Xale looks up at Niall and smiles.

"What?" Niall asks.

Harry grins and steps backward, "I'll go change while you work on that."

"Niall," Harry hears Xale talking behind him, "Put this on."

"What? No!"

"Niall, please, it's black."

Harry knows that it won't take Niall too long to crack under the pressure and put on his sheer shirt.

By the time Harry exits the bathroom in his white shirt, Niall is wearing his black shirt and Xale is standing there smiling with her phone out.

"I put on what you chose," Harry says, doing a spin for them both.

"Let's take a selfie so I can post it everywhere and look like a pimp," Xale laughs, motioning Harry over.

"A pimp?" Harry shakes his head, "I feel so violated."

"Niall, here," Xale hands Niall her phone and grabs both Niall and Harry around the waist. She pulls a pout at the phone and as soon as the picture is clicked she yanks the phone from Niall, "This is going to be my profile picture for everything."

"I feel used and dirty," Harry continues.

"Shut up," Niall punches him in the shoulder, "I've been getting violated by this idiot for longer than you have. I can't believe she made me wear this!" Niall looks down at the shirt which showcases his entire torso, "I can't believe you have these kind of shirts! Are you a stripper, Harry?"

Harry laughs, "You look good, don't worry about it."

Niall grins, "I look like a cheap whore."

"Are you calling me a cheap whore?" Harry playfully gasps, "I am actually a very expensive whore."

"Guys, shut up," Xale interrupts, "Do you want to go to the party or just ogle each other all night?"

"I don't mind ogling," Niall winks at Harry and they both burst out laughing.

"I could actually ogle you too Niall, you look really good," Xale grins.

"I do?" Niall shrugs, his cheeks tinting red, "If you like it I could get a few sheer shirts or something."

Harry raises his eyebrows and holds in a laugh. Niall is so whipped over her and Xale either has no idea or is pretending she doesn't.

"You can keep that one," Harry butts in, trying to help the situation, "I mean, I don't really wear the black one."

"Really? Sick, man, thanks!" Niall steps up and pulls Harry into a hug.

"Yes, gay porn," Xale whispers.

"Shut up," Niall laughs, pulling her into the hug as well.


	16. {Part II The Present}

The park where the party is happening is quite a distance from Harry's apartment. But, they all make it there a little after ten. The place is littered with college kids and music is booming from the direction of the bean. The sun has set and the air is cool, due to the large lake neighboring the busy city.

Harry's got a lump in his throat. He's seen seven more homeless people while walking tonight. The homeless seem to be littered all across the city, all of them sitting alone with cardboard signs and plastic cups. He knows he shouldn't be giving them money because jobs are available here, he knows it. He's been told this. Most of them use the money they get for drugs. That's not good. So, Harry avoids eye contact and keeps walking, pretending that everything in the world is okay.

When they reach the park, Harry is completely shocked. They have parties like this here? Parties this big?

"This is crazy!" Harry shouts as the three walk past the fountain and toward the stairs.

"I know, damn," Xale responds, "This is not what normal parties look like here, Harry," Xale says, answering Hary's thoughts.

Harry narrows his eyes at the back of Xale's head. Between that dark green vintage dress, arm full of bangles and deep brown eyes, she could probably say she can read minds and everyone would believe her. She probably can read minds. She's probably a modern Chicago hippie and a mind reader and a magician.

"Talk about having money," Niall says, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, "I hate rich people."

"It's going down at the bean," Xale shouts, pointing to an array of lights.

"The bean?" Harry questions.

"Did you not do any research before coming here?" Niall bumps Harry's shoulder, "Even I did my research before moving."

"Is it a kidney bean?" Harry asks, genuinely curious as to what bean they're talking about.

Xale and Niall burst out laughing, "Why are you like this?" They choke out at the same time.

Harry smiles at them and shrugs.

"To the bean!" Xale starts sprinting toward the stairs, Niall and Harry right behind her.

"Free drinks!" Niall cheers as they bound up the steps.

Harry huffs and wrings his hands out. He's never really been a fan of parties. Maybe, if he drinks enough it'll help him loosen up and he'll actually have fun tonight. Xale and Niall probably have other friends they'll introduce him to and Harry can get started on making a college social group. This can be good.

The three of them wander aimlessly through the crowd for a minute, just taking everything in. Niall grabs a red cup off a random table and chugs it down within seconds. Harry stares at him in awe.

"Hey, Ernie!" Xale shouts suddenly, running up to a short dark haired man.

They greet each other and then Xale looks over her shoulder, "Harry, this is one of my acquaintances, Ernie."

Harry finds it odd that Xale doesn't call him a friend, "Hey, Ernie," Harry slowly pronounces his name the way Xale said it.

"Ernie, this is Harry. He's new here, so if you see him around campus I expect you to make sure he's alright," She commands.

Ernie nods at Harry, "As you wish, Xale."

Harry smiles and waves at Ernie. Ernie raises an eyebrow.

"Wave back!" Niall shouts.

Ernie's brown eyes rake over Niall before he raises a hand and slowly waves at Harry.

"He was weird," Harry says, when they've left Ernie behind.

"He's Mexican," Xale shrugs, as if that explains everything.

"Xale, how many time do I have to tell you that people's ethnicity is not the answer to everything," Niall shakes his head in disbelief.

Xale raises an eyebrow, "Niall has anger issues because he's Irish," She says, looking Harry dead in the eye.

"That makes no sense!" Niall yells.

Xale laughs, "You get irritated so fast!"

"Um, How does partying work?" Harry asks, hoping to change the topic.

"Listen, just start dancing and act like you fit in," Xale pats Harry's arm.

Niall snorts, "This one can't fit in," he shakes his head and languidly strolls away, instantly fitting the vibe of the party.

Harry pushes his curls back and licks his lips, "I went to a party just once," He admits, nervously smiling down at Xale, "Please, don't leave me alone."

Xale smiles, her brown eyes scanning Harry's face, "I won't."

Turns out Xale doesn't drink, but Harry does. So, she pulls him into a drinking game taking place at one of the random tables. Harry is completely gone within a few minutes.

"Here!" Harry giggles, shoving a shot glass into Xale's hands.

"I'm just cheering for you, buddy," Xale takes the glass in two fingers and looks at it as if it might explode any moment.

The group cheers wildly as someone comes back with another tray of shots. Harry hoots and throws another tequila shot down as if it's water.

"Harry," Xale says, nudging his hand, "We should really find Niall."

"Yeah, Niall!" Harry cheers, "He can join too!"

Everything is dark with blinding strobe lights centered around the actual bean, well the sculpture is called the cloud gate but everyone calls it the bean because well, it looks like a bean. 

People are dancing around the bean, red cups littering the perimeter. Harry and Xale walk around the crowd searching for any glimpse of a blonde man, clad in black. Of course, with this large crowd, it isn't easy to locate Niall.

"What if he's not dancing?" Harry asks, sipping from a Corona bottle.

"He's Niall, he's totally danc- Where did you get that?" Xale questions, grabbing the bottle from Harry's hand.

Harry giggles, "It was on a table."

"Was it open?"

"Yeah."

Xale drops the bottle on the ground and keeps walking. Harry pouts at the lost drink.

"It's Niall!" Harry suddenly shouts, pointing into the convulsing crowd. He's not sure if Xale will see him because there are a ton of people, but that is totally Niall.

Xale squints into the flashing lights, "Where?"

Harry points again, "Right there!"

Xale looks up at Harry, "Lead the way, then!" She shouts to be heard over the deafening music.

Harry grabs Xale by the hand and pulls her into the crowd. They both shove their way through the throng of sweaty people. The bobbing head of blonde Harry is following keeps moving further away. Someone elbows Harry in the ribs and Harry grabs his side, slowly rubbing the pain away. When Harry turns back to look at the person, Xale punches them in the back, her bangles glittering in the flashing lights. Harry lets out a laugh, throwing his head back.

They suddenly stop walking. Harry's looking above himself. Xale stares at the back of Harry's head in confusion. Then, she looks up as well and rolls her eyes.

They're directly below the bean and from here the reflection gets distorted and prisms outward.

Harry is simply taking in the view of multiple perspectives above him. Then, something he had been hoping for but not expecting happens. Harry see's him. His face flashes across the reflections for just a moment. But Harry doesn't need more than a millisecond to recognize him. It's Louis. Every fiber in Harry's being freezes.


	17. {Part II The Present}

Harry might have been drunk but that single glimpse of Louis' face seemed to have drained all the alcohol from his system. He looked for him then. He had let go of Xale and ran through the crowd, shoving people around to try and find him. Louis just seemed to disappear again. No matter how many times Harry shouted his name, he didn't come back.

Now, Harry's sitting in his living room, finishing off the box of fig cookies from his mum. Niall is passed out on Harry's bed and Xale is standing in front of the TV, staring at him.

"What happened back there?" She asks, eyes narrowed.

Harry shrugs and focuses his eyes on the bit of the tv screen he can see.

"You can tell me," Xale pushes, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the tv.

Harry has no idea what is actually playing on the tv screen, he just turned it on to avoid talking. How can you tell someone you met two days ago about how crazy you are?

"Seriously, Harry," She reaches down and presses the off button. The tv screen goes black, "I won't judge, I never judge. I'll understand, or I'll try my best to, I promise."

Harry looks down into the empty box of cookies and sighs. There's just cookie crumbs left now.

Xale walks up and nudges Harry's knee with her's, "Who's Louis?" She almost whispers.

A sigh escapes Harry's lips and he turns around so his face is nestled into a pillow. He closes his eyes and hopes she'll get annoyed and leave.

Yet, Xale doesn't go away. She reaches out and runs a hand through his hair, bangles jingling by Harry's ear. It sounds like wind chimes.

"I'm asking to see if I can help," She coos, softly stroking his hair, "I kind of know a Louis."

Harry's eyes open at that, "Louis who?"

"He was in one of my psychology classes," She says, and her fingers are still there, moving in a soothing rhythm , "We were kind of friends."

And Harry can see it clearly. Louis would be friends with Xale. It makes sense. She's so smiley and full of life and Louis used to be like that. Louis must still be like that.

"I meant his name," Harry breathes out. Hoping, hoping to everything that is good in this world, hoping that this just all works out because it needs to or-

"Tomlinson."

Harry punches the couch cushion. Xale's hand disappears off his head. He thinks he's scared her so he looks up, "Sorry."

Xale just stands there with her eyebrows barely pinched together, "He's British," She goes on.

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as she continues talking about him. He tries to imagine what he must look like. What his voice must sound like.

"He plays football. Not American football, like, soccer football."

A smile plays along Harry's lips as he remembers when they used to play together.

"He's the star of the team. He's really popular. That's hard in college, but everyone knows him, and everyone likes him."

Harry grins, "Yeah, he always has been liked."

"He's rich as hell. He's nice. Who is he to you?"

"We were best fr-" Harry opens his eyes and narrows them. She's just trying to get stuff out of him.

"You were best friends?" Xale gasps, "When? Recently? No, you just came here. When you were kids? I've known Louis since he moved here."

"How could you have known him?" Harry asks, suddenly jealous.

"We went to the same school," she shrugs.

"How is that possible?" Harry furrows his brow.

"We went to the same school and then the same college, it happens. It's very possible," Xale plops down on the couch next to him.

"You're friends with him?" Harry asks, eyes stinging.

"No, not really. Kind of," Xale shakes her head, "What about you?"

Harry's eyes water and he swallows, "Yeah," He says, voice an octave higher, "At least we were."

Xale stares at him, eyes moving from his watery eyes, to his quivering lip and down to his hands which he's clasped tightly together.

"Friends," Xale whispers.

If Harry was thinking about Xale being able to read minds before, he's completely sure of it now. The way her brown eyes look when she looks back up at him, it's questioning. As if she doesn't quite believe that they were only friends.

"That's it," Harry unwinds his hands and rubs them on his thighs, "Just friends, Xale. Don't look at me like that."

"Why did you come to Chicago?" She asks.

To find Louis. But Harry doesn't say that, "I got a modeling contract."

"Not for Louis?"

Of course for louis. Everything he's done since Louis left has been for Louis. It's always been about Louis. It will always be for Louis. But, Harry shakes his head.

"You both lost touch, then?"

Louis didn't call. So yeah... Harry shrugs, thinking about it.

"Friends?"

"Yes."

"You saw him, there, at the party?"

Harry nods.

"It was his party, he threw it."

Harry's getting anxious now. His breaths are coming out shorter so he stands up and rushes to his room. He fumbles around in one of his bags in the dark till he finds the smooth plastic inhaler.

He pumps the inhaler and takes long, deep breaths, sitting on the floor of his room. His mind is racing from everything he just learned. He came here hoping to find Louis but he didn't expect to. He never expected to.

The soft noise of bangles clinking together pulls Harry out of his daze. He looks toward the door and there stands Xale, a dark shadow against the light in the hall.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, I just need to sleep," Harry lies, "Please, go. I'll talk to you both tomorrow."

Xale doesn't reply. She walks up to the bed and shakes Niall awake, "Come on. Let me take you home."

"Home?" Niall groans, voice scratchy and disoriented.

"Yeah, stand up."

"I don't wanna go to Ireland," Niall moans.

Harry smiles at that. Maybe he's being rude by making them leave.

"Not Ireland, your dorm," Xale says.

"Ireland pisses me off," Niall mumbles.

"I've heard the story, shut up and stand up," Xale continues, "Harry is kicking us out."

"No," Harry says suddenly, "I'm not. I'm sorry. Let him sleep."

Xale turns around at that. Harry can't see her face in the dark but he's sure if he could, he would see chocolate brown eyes scanning him up and down and taking in every detail, reading him. He doesn't want to be read. He doesn't want to tell her. She doesn't need to know. She needs to leave.

"I'm still leaving," Xale says.

"It's dark."

"It's my city, I'll be fine."

"A city does not belong to anyone."

Xale snorts, "Aren't you from a village or something? Who are you to say that?"

Harry laughs, "Not really a village."

She still leaves though. But before she does she turns around and hugs Harry, "It's going to be okay," she says, "Whatever it was between you and Louis. If you still feel the same, it'll be alright. I promise."

Harry doesn't know how she can promise him that. He doesn't know, but he still takes those words and tucks them away. It's been a while but he still feels the same, so everything will be alright. Something about someone making a promise about it is reassuring.


	18. {Part II The Present}

That rest of the week goes by quickly. Harry doesn't meet Xale or Niall, he stays alone, figuring out life in the city. He finds out where to go grocery shopping and where the clothing shops are. He even manages to fix up his sleep schedule so he isn't waking up at 3am every morning & staring at the clock for half an hour before closing his eyes again. He screenshots his class schedule on his phone to keep as a reference and goes in to buy his books. Harry might have ended up walking around campus for a while not knowing where he's going but it was better than calling a friend and having to face questions about Louis.

His mum calls and Harry picks it up, talking for hours about how nice it is. After all, every place on Earth is beautiful, if only one has the eye to see it.

Those few days of the week end up helping Harry settle in quite well. He thinks of Louis repeatedly but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head, down his throat and closes them away in his heart, where Louis belongs. That's the only way he can manage to normally function and not go screaming to Xale about how she needs to tell him where Louis is. Because, that wouldn't go anywhere. Meeting Louis like this wouldn't go anywhere. And it needs to go somewhere.

The next thing Harry knows, he's waking up on a dark Monday morning to loud pounding at his door.

Harry shuffles quietly through his dim apartment and peeks out the eye hole with a half closed eye. It's Dave.

"Dave?" Harry asks in his scratchy morning voice, swinging the door open.

"You just woke up?" Dave raises an eyebrow, "Oh my dear boy, just come like that."

"What?" Harry sleepily runs his hand down his face, "Where?"

"You're shooting today, for-" Dave rolls his eyes, "Abercrombie."

"Oh," Harry sniffles and leans against the open door, "Is that today?"

"Get your phone and keys, come on," Dave impatiently taps his foot as he waits in the hall.

Harry nods, blurry thoughts of modeling and Louis swimming around his head. He returns to his room and grabs his phone, inhaler & apartment keys. Harry slips his bare feet into a pair of Nike flip flops and drags his feet back to the hallway.

Dave purses his lips at him from the hallway, "If you would have answered your phone I'd have given you a heads up."

"Was off," Harry says, shutting the door behind himself.

Harry squints at the light when he steps outside of the building. Turns out the sun actually is up, he just had all the curtains closed in his apartment.

It takes a long time to travel through the congested streets of Chicago. They don't seem to get very far despite the large amount of time they spend in the car. Harry fully wakes up in that time and is curiously staring out his window when they reach their destination.

"Did I sign a long contract with them?" Harry questions, squinting out at the tall building.

"Oh, heavens no!" Dave laughs, "I would have never let you sign an extended contract with someplace this disgusting."

"Disgusting," Harry quietly repeats under his breath while wondering if he'll be on the Abercrombie bags. That would be kind of cool.

The first floor is very quiet and calm. Harry and Dave are told to be seated until someone comes down to get them. And someone does. A short woman with caramel skin and straight blue hair approaches them with a smile.

"Hi, you must be Harry Styles," She says, grabbing Harry's hand, "I love the 'I didn't try' look you have today. It looks messy as if you actually didn't try, yet you look polished in a way that shows you did!"

It takes every fiber of Harry's being to keep his mouth shut and not burst out laughing at that comment. He literally rolled out of bed and came here.

"First impressions are everything," Dave grins beside Harry, "Speaking of which, are you going to be escorting us to where we must go?"

"Yes. But first, Hi, I'm Dari, I work-"

"Good for you," Dave cuts in, "Please just escort us to where we need to be."

"I-" Dari looks flustered for a moment at being interrupted so rudely, but she pulls on a faux smile and nods, "Right this way, sir."

Harry looks between Dari & Dave expressionlessly as he trudges behind them.

Dari leads them toward an elevator and steps in to press the correct floor number, "The elevator will take you to the seventh floor where if you walk straight out and take a right, you should come to door eleven," Dari narrows her eyes toward Dave, "And that is where this boy needs to be."

Dave raises an eyebrow, "Thank you, will you step out of the elevator now?"

Dari takes a deep breath and steps out, standing next to Harry.

"Nice to meet you, Dari," Harry says, quietly, "You've got a very pretty and unique name."

Dari smiles at him, confusion sparkling in her eyes, "Thank you, I hope your first shoot goes well."

Harry smiles back and steps into the lift.

"What room did she say?" Dave asks, once the doors have slid shut.

"Seven-Eleven," Harry says, yawning loudly at the last word."

"Seven is the floor," Dave looks at Harry with one eyebrow quirked again.

"Seven-Eleven," Harry repeats, "Floor seven, room eleven. Like the store, seven-eleven."

"No one knows what that is," Dave mutters.

Harry shrugs, looking at his reflection in the steel doors. Dari said she liked his look. But his look is literally sweats and flipflops. Funny people they have here.

"I can't believe you didn't even shower," Dave quietly mumbles.

"I showered last night," Harry whispers, "After I worked out, so I'm okay right now."

The doors of the elevator ding open and Dave steps out first, "You're a damn lucky boy. Showered the night before, came here in sweats and you still look like you could dazzle the pants off everyone."

Harry smiles at the floor, "Yeah, sure," he responds, unconvinced.

***

"A bit to the right," A woman shouts at Harry from behind the camera.

Harry turns his head to the right, just barely.

"No, no!" The camera woman frustratedly shouts, "Somebody go fix that boy, fix him!"

A man and woman rush forward quickly at the demand and get about fussing with Harry.

The woman takes Harry's face in her hands and gently guides it to a perfect angle.

"Do not move," she whispers.

Then, she fixes his hair as the man goes about shifting about the flannel Harry's been made to wear.

"Unbutton it," The camera woman shouts, "This is not a shoot for Abercrombie Kids, we need skin."

Harry furrows his brow uncomfortably but he stays frozen as the man unbuttons his shirt. As soon as he walks away the camera flashes.

"Adjust the lights, I need brighter! We are at a beach, people!" The camera woman screams again, "It's hot, it's windy, we are on a California beach!"

Harry has completely forgotten everyone's names in here but he did go around and introduce himself to everyone. Although, half the people gave him a confused look. Now he just refers to everyone as a "man" or "woman" in his head. He really hopes he can get out of here without having to say personal goodbye's.

"Turn the fans on," Someone says.

A cool breeze starts up, bristling through Harry's long curls and causing his open shirt to flow backward.

The camera flashes a few more time.

Harry's back hurts from being stood in his current pose for half an hour, and he's sure his legs have turned into logs. But gosh the money here is a hundred dollars an hour, can he really complain? Well, that also makes up for the fact that Harry is only doing one shoot here a week for the next month, according to Dave.

"You're off," the camera woman suddenly says.

Harry turns his head to look at her, "For lunch?" He slowly asks.

"No," she laughs, "For the day. It's been six hours and you're done now."

"Great," Harry stretches, "I haven't even eaten today."

"Yeah, none of the models eat before a shoot," The camera woman nods her head, "I know. Now get out of here and go eat. We'll see you next week."

Harry stands there as the fan turns off, his flannel settling around him. He's not supposed to eat before a shoot? The modeling industry really is something.

"You can keep the outfits you modeled today," Dave says, walking up to Harry with a bag of clothes.

"I don't-" Harry pauses, "Fine, sure," He doesn't want to wear Abercrombie, but maybe he can sell these clothes online and make money for clothes that he really wants.

"Just sell them online," Dave whispers, his words matching Harry's thoughts, "You can make extra money for better clothes that way."

Harry smiles at Dave, "I was just thinking that."

They both burst out laughing as they step into the hallway. Harry's laugh stops short as his eyes hone in on a building. "Tomlinson's" is written in big blue letters across the building.

"What's that?" Harry suddenly asks, "What's Tomlinson's?"

Dave is still coming down from his laugh when he answers, "Hotel, Tomlinson's is an international hotel chain."


	19. {Part II The Present}

It's tuesday, first day of classes for Harry. It's very obvious in the way that he gets ready in the morning that he is hoping to bump into Louis. And when he catches himself whispering different greetings and flashing different smiles at the mirror, he snaps the light switch down and quickly walks outside pretending that he wasn't just doing that.

Harry doesn't quite know how he's going to get to college, so he pulls out the maps app on his phone. He goes through a series of transit routes and street maps while slowly spooning corn flakes into his mouth. Frosted corn flakes to be specific, it's his favorite cereal.

The first class that Harry has signed up for starts at ten in the morning, so he's had plenty of time to get in his run, yoga, shower and breakfast. He even packed himself a lunch for today because, he's not sure about what kind of foods would be available at this particular university in this particular country.

Harry makes his way down to the transit and stays silent throughout the entire ride. His first ride was a great lesson which taught him to shut up and mind his own business. Which he does, standing in the back with one hand holding himself steady and the other pressed against the cool glass window.

It's a crisp, chilly morning. Harry loves it, it reminds him of home. England is quite cold usually, so that's the weather Harry has grown to love.

He's dressed in black skinny jeans and a white banana print button down. As usual, his feet are clad in faded brown boots and his shirt is hanging open to his chest. A silver cross dangles from his neck, moving back and forth with every step.

Harry's not very religious, his family isn't very religious either. But, his grandmother was. So, when she gifted him the silver cross, Harry accepted it with a warm smile.

A transit route and one bus later, Harry's standing at the edge of the large campus that is the University of Chicago. 

It's a tough university to get into. The acceptance rate is only 7.6%. Harry almost didn't get in. His grades were splendid but he had nothing else to show, and universities these days look at more than just grades.

He runs a hand through his hair as he walks onto the campus, nervousness slightly accelerating his breathing. He has a valid reason to be nervous. He's going to start college in a completely different country and Louis goes here too. That is so crazy.

Harry wanders around for a few minutes before he realizes he doesn't know where to go, "Fucking fuckers," He whispers. His first class is biology and it starts in fifteen minutes.

So, Harry being himself proceeds to stand frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyes scan around him, as if the science building will take a step forward and introduce itself to him in a jolly voice. "Why, hello, Harry Styles. I am the science building, enter me."

"Are you lost?" A male voice asks from directly behind Harry.

"Huh?" Harry spins around to find himself looking down at a raven haired boy.

The boy raises a thick straight eyebrow at Harry, "Just asking if you're lost," The boy repeats, "Are you new?" He's got a homely accent that catches Harry's attention.

"Yeah," Harry sighs, "I don't know where to go for biology."

The boys nods, golden eyes studying him up and down. Harry does the same. This boy is wearing black skinny jeans and a matching full sleeve shirt. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, yet he looks like a dream come to life. The boy is attractive, and Harry can appreciate a good looking person simply, with no other interfering thoughts, so he does.

"I'll walk you," The boy shrugs and points behind himself, "It's back there, by the way," A soft smile lifts his lips upward, "Completely opposite direction."

"Oh, I was going in the wrong direction," Harry laughs, embarrassed.

The boy shakes his head and grins fully, turning around and taking the lead. He has long, lean limbs and dark stubble that brings out the lightness of his eyes. His skin tone matches Harry's, but whereas Harry sun bathes for this color, the other boy's seems natural, glowing evenly across his skin.

"It's Zayn," He says, looking back.

Harry squints, "What's Zen?"

"Me," Zayn lifts an eyebrow again, "I'm Zayn. That's my name."

"Oh," Harry's eyes open wide and he nods, "I'm Harry," Harry smiles.

The boys eyes furrow, "And you sound English, yeah?"

"As do you, sort of," Harry counters.

"I am half english, came here at fourteen," Zayn looks away, "I was adopted."

"Ah," Harry nods, looking down at his feet which slightly point inward when he walks. Pigeon footed. He focuses on keeping them straight, "I just moved here."

"That glass building is the science building," Zayn stops and points ahead of himself, "You see it, yeah?"

"I see it," Harry says, his eyes honing in on a dark glass building, reflecting the morning sun into his eyes.

"The first number of your classroom is the floor number," Zayn slowly says, talking to Harry as if he's talking to a child, "206, would be on floor two, 507, is on floor five."

"Yes, thank you," Harry nods again, listening intently to Zayn, "My room number actually is 206, are you psychic?"

Zayn laughs, "You're something, huh?"

Harry smiles crookedly and shrugs.

"Maybe I'll see you around," Zayn nods at him and spins around, walking away with a slow, relaxed gait.

"Maybe," Harry smiles to himself and starts toward the science building. He's wondering who adopted Zayn and wondering if there's anyone else in the world who looks like him. The world could use more people who look like Zayn. Zayn is aesthetic.

Harry enters the science building with ten minutes to spare. To the left is an elevator, with a swarm of students waiting for the closed doors to open. To his right is a staircase, nearly void of people.

He laughs under his breath and heads toward the stairs. Uni students are so lazy, it's the same in England.

His classroom is right across from the staircase, and right next to the elevator. Harry spots it through the door-window as he's pushing the door open. When he walks in though, does he realize that it's not a small classroom, it's actually quite a large lecture hall. Makes sense, biology is a core class after all.

Harry secretly eyes the students who are seated in the chairs, small table tops slid in front of them. For some reason colleges think students don't need desks.

He ends up ducking his head, hair covering his face as he trudges up the steps of the auditorium-like lecture hall and takes a seat in the back. He slides his black backpack to the floor and sets it between his feet, pulling out the biology textbook and a notebook.

The professor walks in as soon as Harry looks up. He's a short, old man with a strong stride and a bald spot in the middle of his head.

"Hello," The professor calls out to the class, "I'm Mr. Hastings, welcome to General Biology!"

Some kids respond to the greeting and that is that. There are no name games, no getting to know each other on the first day.

The professor starts his lecture, and Harry's focus stays on the open door. Not that he's expecting anyone to walk in. But if a bubbly boy named Louis Tomlinson were to walk in right now, Harry wouldn't mind.

Then, as the universe would have it, that's exactly what happens. In saunters Louis Tomlinson in all his glory. He turns in from the elevator so Harry has no time to prepare himself. All he can do is watch.

There he is, Louis. A dark hood pulled over his head, he's dressed in all black. An aura of dominance surrounds him as he strides in, tall and confident.

Harry's eyes nearly bug out of his head and he grabs the edge of his seat, knuckles going white from the force. His breathing is labored as he finally, finally sees him. The entire room disappears and all he can see is Louis walking in there like he owns the place.

Louis' face is covered in dark stubble, a hint of a fringe visible under the hood. He doesn't walk to the back, he sits down in the front of the class actually, never even looking toward the back.

Thank everything for that, because in the back, Harry is vibrating at the edge of his seat. His tongue is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he struggles to calm himself down because he lied and he does mind that Louis Tomlinson just walked in through that door.


	20. {Part II The Present}

Harry shifts back in his chair, struggling to control his breathing.

There is Louis, right in front of him, and all he can do is sit there panting in a corner. Not that he wants to approach Louis. This isn't the right time. This is unfair.

Louis can't just show up in his biology class. At this rate, Harry won't be able to plan this out according to himself. At this rate, Louis will see him today, or tomorrow and Harry won't have time to prepare. It'll all end up wrong. It can't go wrong.

Thankfully, when in uni, professors don't take attendance. So, there is no chance of Louis noticing Harry today. Unless, he so happens to turn around and scan the back of the class. If that were to happen, then things wouldn't go as planned.

Harry sits there throughout the entire one and a half hour class staring at the back of Louis' head. His beanie covers his hair, only leaving tufts of it exposed at the ends. Harry thinks to himself then, that Louis' hair hasn't changed. Everything might have changed but at least Louis still seems the same.

When Harry finally shifts his attention away from Louis to professor Hastings, he's too late.

Mr. Hastings is running his eraser across the white board, "That's all for today."

Squinting, Harry searches the room for a clock and indeed, the class is over. Yet, Harry sits still in the shadows of the back, not daring to move. Even the slightest movement could catch Louis' eye.

Louis stretches as he stands, and Harry shrinks further into the wall. Louis then proceeds to grab his backpack and exit the room without talking to anyone. People stare. Everyone looks him up and down, gazes lingering as he walks past. But Louis, he's looking straight ahead, not giving a care about anyone else in the room. He probably doesn't care at all. He's probably carefree and free spirited, like he always used to be.

Harry counts to ten slowly and quietly. Then, he shoves his things into his backpack and speed walks out of the classroom. He leaves too early. When he steps out, Louis is there, waiting for the elevator.

Harry catches a bare glimpse of him from the corner of his eye and his feet suddenly push of the ground with such force that he sprints through the door and down the flight of stairs. He doesn't stop running till he's out of the building and halfway to his next class. Hopefully, no one saw him run like that. Shit. People obviously saw him. Hopefully no one will recognize it was him.

"What was that mad dash about, curly?" A familiar voice sing songs.

Harry ducks his head and sighs before spinning around to face Xale, "Where did you come from?"

"I came from my psychology lecture," She smiles, walking toward him.

Again, she's dressed in the same type of style. A pink floral dress and black boots. Harry bites his lip in thought, trying to change the topic. He thinks about how he too has his own style and throws out random words.

"Psychology is nice," he nods, dismissing it, "I was just thinking about how Niall has no style."

Xale blinks, "What makes you think that?"

"You have your bangles and your dresses, I have my chain and my shirts, and Niall has nothing."

"Niall has his bleached hair," Xale shrugs, "Why were you running?"

Harry swallows, that attempt went in vain. He answers truthfully, no use in lying, "I saw Louis," Harry sighs again.

Xale squeals and jumps toward him, "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I was sat in the back for all of biology lecture then I literally ran when I saw him out of the corner of my eye in the hallway," Harry miserably stares at the ground, his eyes land on his feet. Being pigeon footed is not cute. He straightens his feet out and looks up again.

"He's nice," Xale softly says, raising her eyebrows, "You should talk to him. Especially since you've known each other forever."

"I knew him forever, but that was also forever ago," Harry takes a deep breath and turns away, "That's the whole point. It has been forever," and he doesn't mean to be rude but he can't talk about this now. So, he walks away.

"I'm coming over later!" Xale shouts behind him, "I'm going to help you with this!"

Harry hunches his shoulders and silently wills her to stop shouting.

"I swear!" She shouts once more before stopping.

Harry quickly walks to his photography class and takes a seat. This is actually one building he remembers the location of. In here, the classrooms are actually rooms, instead of large lecture halls.

The professor isn't present, it's odd really. It seems the professors here simply leave their doors unlocked and go around doing whatever till class starts.

Niall walks in a few minutes later and grins at Harry as soon his eyes land on him. Someone is with him, probably a friend. When Niall walks in, the person behind him finally comes into view, it's Zayn.

"Look who it is," Niall walks up and slides into the seat next to him.

"Harry, my man," Zayn leans around Niall and gives him a pat on the back.

"Actually," Niall shoves Zayn's hand away, "Harry is my man. I found him first."

"Xale found me first," Harry disagrees.

"You're Xale's man," Zayn laughs as soon as he says that.

"I hate you," Niall grumbles.

Harry giggles and gladly joins in on the teasing, "Why, what's wrong? Don't like the sound of that?"

"Listen here, british tea," Niall furrows his brow, "I will dump your ass in the harbor."

Harry smiles, "I'll drag you down with me."

"Nobody can drag me down," Niall snorts.

"Too bad she likes me," Zayn pokes Niall.

"She does not," Niall scoffs.

"It's okay, mate," Zayn calmly continues, "I don't like her like that so, I'm no threat."

Harry watches as Niall rolls his eyes and Zayn looks away with a poker face. Does Xale really like Zayn? He studies Zayn for a minute then looks away. Who wouldn't like Zayn?


	21. {Part II The Present}

Xale stumbles into the photography classroom two minutes before the start of class and struts on toward them, "Curly," She sing songs, eyes trained on Harry as she walks in, "Welcome to the club."

"What club?" Harry questions, "The photography club?"

"No," Xale eyes the empty seats aside Niall and Zayn, "Our club of humans we are easily able to tolerate."

Zayn snorts, "Well, we usually are able to tolerate each other. Niall can be a bit crazy."

"What the hell?" Niall mumbles, "At least I don't call my friends 'humans I sometimes tolerate'."

Xale laughs and heads toward the empty seat by Zayn.

Harry grins at the idiots he's surrounded with and pulls out his camera. It's the same camera Louis gifted to him all those years ago. In the bottom of his camera bag, he's got the original chip that was in it. The chip with pictures of young Louis in ridiculous poses. Those are the pictures that got Harry where he is now.

Niall elbows Harry, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Yeah?" Harry says.

"What do you think of?" Niall questions, crystal clear blue eyes narrowed in confusion, "You seem to get lost in your thoughts very easily."

"Stuff," Harry replies.

"Somebody," Niall says, "You're thinking of a person. Don't even try to tell me you're not."

Harry swallows and looks down.

The professor walks in and Harry is thankful to leave the conversation. But before the professor can open her mouth, Niall quietly whispers beside him, "It'll all work out, Harry."

That's all it takes and instead of getting lost in his thoughts, they transform into a rocket and Harry situates himself right on top of it and blasts away.

The class turns out to be a fun one. Through the two hours of listed lecture time, only fifteen minutes are actually spent in class on the first day.

"You can start your first assignment today, during class hours," The professor briefs over everything she just said, "Your first assignment must be done on campus. Grab a sheet on your way out and remember to have fun!"

Harry scratches the tip of his nose, eyes squinted at the professor. How can she possibly just let them go like this? Shouldn't she lecture them some more on cameras or something? Well, this is photography 2, so everyone is probably expected to have already taken photography 1.

Their group of four gets up slowly and is the last one out the door. Niall and Harry are in front and Xale is whispering something inaudible to Zayn. They all greet the professor on their way out, grabbing an assignment sheet.

"Alright, huddle up," Xale says, the second they've stepped outside, "Everybody sit down right here and let's go over this."

Harry looks around for a chair or something. There is nothing.

"She means the ground," Niall explains to Harry as he settles down, criss-cross.

Zayn sits down with his knees up and leans backward on his hands, his bag providing support for his back.

Harry follows them down with a confused smile, sitting lightly on his knees, "Why aren't you sitting?" He asks Xale.

"Why, my love," She says in a playful tone, dropping her backpack on the ground, "I'm the queen, I don't sit on the floor."

Zayn snorts out a laugh and Harry just smiles. Niall speaks up then, "She's really not joking."

"She likes bossing us around," Zayn sighs, "Which we don't really mind."

"I am a benevolent dictator," Xale grins down at Harry, "And you, Sir Harold, must learn to obey my rules. Or, I'll end up walking up to Louis and spilling the beans myself."

"Louis?" Zayn asks, "What's Harry got to do with my brother?"

Niall squints at Harry for a second. Harry stares back at him and watches as understanding finds it's way into Niall, his expression changing to shock for a millisecond before he pulls it into neutral.

"What the fuck are you going on about?" Niall feigns boredom, "Just shut up and let's do this fucking project."

Zayn sighs, "Can we get far away from the buildings? I'd rather take pictures of things without people in them."

"Listen here, Tomlinson," Xale commands.

Harry's head snaps up and his eye's meet Xale's before she pinpoints them on Zayn. Oh shit. Zayn is actually Louis' brother. She literally only said that so Harry would find out. Louis' family adopted another boy as well? What if they have more kids. Is Louis older than Zayn? Do Zayn and Louis get along well? Wow, holy shit. Harry's eyes go wide as he studies Zayn's profile. Harry is sitting next to a Tomlinson.

"So, you guys have a hotel chain?" Harry interrupts whatever Xale was talking to Zayn about.

Zayn raises an eyebrow at Harry, "Yeah, mate. We've got hotels in the UK and The States. You must have seen one, aye?"

"I did, after my shoot," Harry lightly responds, licking his lips.

"Ooh," Niall teases, "Who did you shoot for? Was it Vogue? Was it nude?"

Harry blushes and laughs, "No, it was only Abercrombie."

"You're a photographer?" Zayn lets out a surprised laugh.

"Model," Harry replies, eyes flicking up to Xale who's smiling proudly at him.

"Sexy," Zayn joins in on the teasing, "When do we get to see the nude shots?"

"Hey," Harry whines, shrinking backward from the two boys, "I don't do nudes!"

"That's what they all say," Niall sighs.

Zayn shakes his head and continues on, "Next thing you know they're high off crack with their dicks out, swaying in the wind."

Xale lets out a choked laugh and spins around, "Okay, enough, shut up"

Harry blushes harder, remembering she's here as well, "You shouldn't be saying things like that in front of a lady."

"Xale's not a lady," Niall snorts, "Xale's a fucking dickhead."

Harry's mouth falls open as he tries not to laugh, "I never use insults like that!"

"You might as well learn, then," Zayn pats Harry's knee.

"You have to respect people," Harry stands up and grabs Xale's arm, "Let's go to a cleanlier environment, milady."

"Oh, gosh, yes," Xale laughs as they start walking and joins Harry's attempt at humor, "Save me from these scoundrels."

"So, can we smack Harry's bum?" Zayn asks, his voice right behind them, "Or are we not to that stage of our friendship yet."

Niall lets out a laugh, "He's got a nice butt."

"No," Xale immediately shouts, "You've already made him uncomfortable enough."

Harry is thankful for her intervention, he doesn't need attractive men grabbing at his butt before he's established them as friends in his mind. It would be quite invasive.

"Then is your bum up for it?" Zayn asks.

Xale snorts, "I'd like to see you try."

"I'm trying right now," Zayn teases.

A loud slap echoes and Harry looks behind to see Zayn pull his hand away, glaring at Niall, "That fucking hurt, Niall."

"Just protecting my lady from your wandering hands, scoundrel," Niall laughs, his eyes holding no humor at all.

Xale's grip on Harry's arm tighter and she takes a deep breath.

"What happened?" Harry whispers.

Xale releases the breath, "Huh?" she wrinkles her nose and keeps her gaze straight ahead.

Harry studies her reaction and is absolutely certain it was caused by Niall referring to her as his lady. If it were up to Harry, he'd stop them right there and ask why the hell Xale and Niall seem to be sharing an ongoing complicated love story and where the hell Zayn popped into this from and where the hell Louis is because he's a part of this story and should be here right now, hand entwined in Harry's.

"There are ten shots to take, one of them says to include a group of people, and another says windows," Xale explains as they step outside, "Don't go out of sight, as soon we're done we can get the hell away from every person here."

"Why?" Harry laughs.

"The rest don't require people in the shot," Zayn explains, handing Xale her backpack which he picked up for her.

Zayn and Xale seem to be pretty similar, Harry thinks to himself. They seem more like close friends than her and Niall do. What if Zayn just teases Niall that Xale likes him and actually, she likes Niall. This group of people is so confusing.

Harry wanders off enough of a distance so he can't hear Zayn and Xale talking about the tendencies of human nature. Who the hell has conversations about the tendencies of human nature?

"So," Niall's deep voice penetrates Harry's thoughts, "Louis?"

"Who?" Harry asks, eyes on the ground.

"You're fucking gay," Niall replies.

Harry shrugs, "I am."

"Well first, I'm not going to say you should have told me, because straight people aren't expected to announce their sexuality," Niall softly continues.

Harry smiles at that, Niall is a confusing work of art.

"But," Niall takes a deep breath, "I talked to you about gay guys before and I didn't exactly do it in the nicest way possible. I just want you to know that I really don't care if you like it up the ass."

Harry bursts out laughing, "I don't know if I like it up the ass," He honestly replies back, "I just know that I love him."

Niall steps in front of Harry and forces him to come to a stop, "You love Louis Tomlinson?"

Harry spins around to the nearest window and takes a careless snap, luckily catching a flying bird in the reflection.

"You do, don't you?"

Harry shrugs.

"He has a girlfriend right now."

Harry's head snaps toward Niall at that, "What?" He breathes out.

"I don't know if he's bisexual," Niall shrugs, "I'm laying it all out for you the way it is. He is with a girl right now. I've heard rumors where guys say he hit on them and crap, but he's only been seen publicly with girls."

Uneasiness develops in the pit of Harry's stomach. While his life has been stuck replaying Louis, Louis moved on in every way. This is not right. Nothing is going to work out. He should head back to Cheshire right now.

"I can probably get shit out of Zayn," Niall lets out a huff of air, "Don't go around looking like someone just ripped your heart out. It's very noticeable."

"I just can't believe everyone is able to read me so easily," Harry whispers.

Niall shrugs, "I've thought you were gay from the start but I didn't want to seem like I was judging. When I talked about the gays town-"

"You said it was boys town?"

"Right, boys town, you didn't say anything so I figured you were straight," Niall suddenly twists to the left and aims his camera high up at the building, getting a ground view. He snaps the picture and turns around to Harry, "Look past my shoulder."

Harry obliges, searching for what it was that Niall wanted him to look at. Niall on the other hand, pulls his camera up and quickly snaps a picture.

"Hey," Harry whines again.

"Hey," Niall mimics, laughing, "Don't worry, it was only half your face with that hoard of students in the back."

"My face isn't going to get you an A," Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Harry," Niall laughs again, "I'm not gay, but let me tell you that you are very attractive. I'm sure that Louis kid will be whipped as soon as he sees you."

Blushing, Harry averts his eyes and stares at the ground again, "Yeah, sure."

"I know he will be," Niall nudges Harry's shoulder, "And after he hears you talk in that endearing voice, oh, he's going to be a goner!"

"Niall-"

"Xale just pointed at the trees, let's start heading there."

Harry smiles contently to himself as the group starts trudging away from the campus buildings. This confusing group of people is quite nice.


	22. {Part II The Present}

"Louis," Zayn shouts into their apartment, "Louis, my son, my child, where are you?"

Louis and Zayn might be sons of one of the richest couples in the states, but they prefer living in a somewhat more modest way. Well, if you consider a two thousand square foot luxury apartment to be modest that is. The two brothers consider it quite modest compared to the penthouses and beach houses they've grown up in.

"Louis," Zayn walks around the empty apartment, checking every room, "Are you home?" Every room is empty, "Thought you said you wouldn't go out today," he quietly whispers to himself.

Zayn sighs, dragging his feet to the kitchen.

It's been like this for a while. Louis and Zayn have always been close, and they still are, but lately, Louis' just not been around. He spends so much time out that Zayn doesn't even know when he gets his homework done. He must do it though, because he's still ranking in the top of the university.

Zayn's phone vibrates in his back pocket and he snatches it up, it's Niall, "Hey," He murmurs into the phone.

"Can I come over?" Niall angrily whispers, "My idiot dorm mate is smoking pot again and I don't want to get caught."

"Why the hell does he smoke in the dorms?" Zayn groans, leaning on the counter, "Make sure you have your stash and come over."

"Of course I'm bringing my stuff," Niall cackles, "I'm leaving an email for the campus police to come check up on him too."

"Why," Zayn sputters out a shocked laugh, "What if you get caught?"

"Babes," Niall smugly responds, "No one who has weed, calls in their roommate for having it. I'm safe, I just don't want this idiot constantly lighting up. He's got to go, I'm going to make sure he does."

"You sounds like Louis," Zayn grins, fingers tracing over the marble countertop, "Keep up that attitude and you're going to be powerfully rich one day, Horan."

"I better be, I'm not working my ass off in business for anything else. Also, I'm already at your apartment building," Niall says, "I left before calling you."

"What an idiot," Zayn ends the call and rests his face on the marble, eyes on the door as he waits for the bell to ring.

Moments later, the bell rings and lo and behold, there is Niall Horan, with a duffle bag and a stupidly large grin.

Once they're in Zayn's room, Niall is throwing his stash into the drawer he knows Zayn keeps his in.

"I'm not paying for that," Zayn yawns at him from the doorway.

"I don't care, I'm saving my ass here, not offering you a free sample or shit."

Zayn snorts, "It is a free sample, babes, you're not gonna see it again."

Niall rolls his eyes and closes the desk drawer, "Very funny, Tomlinson, very funny."

"Wanna order takeout then smoke all of Louis' stash for revenge?" Zayn offers.

"You know I don't smoke, well, I rarely smoke... yeah lets order Chinese!" Niall tosses his bag on Zayn's bed and walks out, "Where is Louis anyway and why do you want revenge?"

"Don't know," Zayn sighs, "He keeps leaving me alone. That's why I want revenge."

"Awe, little Zaynie is feeling lonely," Niall wraps his arms around him for a moment, "We can cuddle on the couch."

"Fuck off," Zayn shoves Niall off, "Call it cuddling one more time and I'll never cuddle you again."

"You just called it cuddling," Niall grins and raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up, it's not cuddling, it's called allowing people in your personal space. Or, existing very closely to another human."

"Existing very closely," Niall snorts.

"Yes."

"Speaking of Louis, remember when that Brendon kid was going around talking about how Louis and him did it?"

"Disgusting, Niall! I don't want to talk about this," Zayn groans.

"I was going to ask if it was true," Niall yawns, "Was it just rumors or was it real?"

"They didn't have sex," Zayn rubs his hand down his face, "Gross. Can we just order food?"

"Your flat, you order, you pay," Niall shrugs and types Xale a text as he walks toward the couch.

***

"Harry," Xale shouts from outside the bathroom door.

"I told you I was having a shower," Harry calls out, head hanging backward as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair.

"Well, Niall texted," Xale sing songs.

"Good for you," Harry squints his eyes shut as water sprays across his face.

"Louis isn't straight," She screams.

Harry's eyes pop open and he freezes, "What was that?"

"You heard me!" Her voice is further away.

"I can't believe you had to ruin my perfectly relaxing shower like that," Harry shouts, "I'm not making dinner for you anymore!"

"Yes you are," Xale is right outside the door again, "I swear curly, if you don't I'm going to text both the Tomlinson's that you like one of them."

Harry laughs, knowing fully well that Xale is full of empty threats, "I was thinking we could order takeout."

"Good answer, Curly."

The night passes quite well for Harry. Xale stays over telling Harry stories of Louis. Random little tales she remembers from school.

"Our geography teacher once told him that he'd never amount to anything," Xale talks from the floor where she's laying down on a blanket, eating all of Harry's grapes, "It was so rude."

"What did Louis say?" Harry asks, slouched on the couch.

"Louis laughed and said his dad's car was worth more than the teacher would ever make in a lifetime," Xale snickers, "He got sent to the office after that one. But the whole school respected him for standing up to that teacher. He was a scumbag teacher."

"Sounds like it."

When Xale asks Harry for a story or two, Harry laughs and shakes his head. He says Xale's stories are better. Mainly it's because he doesn't want to share his memories yet. They're his. It's all he has of their time together other than the camera. He doesn't want to share them with anyone else.

Xale leaves at midnight and Harry is left worrying for her safety again. No one should be out alone too late. It's just not safe.

The next morning, Harry accidentally sleeps in. He doesn't have class today, he's a part time student and his two classes land on Tuesday and Thursday. But, he wanted to keep a steady sleep schedule and it's already looking like he won't be able to accomplish that.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment before he thinks of calling home. Harry turns over in his toasty sheets and sticks an arm out into the cool air. He grabs his phone and pulls it back into his covers. His fingers skim across the numbers, typing in a familiar number.

"Hello, thank you for calling Anne's Florals," Harry's Mother's soft voice floats in from a small Cheshire flower shop, "How may I assist you?"

"Hm," Harry mimics the Chicago accent he hears every day, "Anne's Florals? I thought I'd called my Mum. Must be the wrong number."

"Harry, my baby," Anne giggles, "How have you been, love?" She practically coos.

Harry's heart warms and he sighs, dropping the phony accent, "I really miss you."

Anne doesn't reply.

"Don't start crying," Harry goes on, "I wanted to tell you something, Mum. I'm not going to talk if you cry."

"Not crying," Anne's voice cracks, "But, I miss you too."

Harry smiles, turning onto his back, "I made friends, Mum. Remember that crazy girl from the airport? She goes to my Uni, her and her friends are real nice. They've let me into their circle easily."

"Harry, that's wonderful," Anne sighs, "I hope they're all good kids. No drugs or unsafe sex," Anne teases.

"Mum, stop embarrassing me, I'm an adult" Harry laughs.

"How's your modeling job going along?" She inquires.

"It's nice, I got a shoot done."

"Who was it for?"

"Abercrombie, but my agent says it's only a start and my goals should be bigger. He thinks I could make it into high fashion. Do you think I could make it, Mum?"

Anne pauses, and Harry can hear the smile when she speaks, "You'll make it, I know you will."

"I saw a hotel the other day," Harry bites his lip and eyes the beam of sunlight shining in from the crack between his curtains.

"What's so special about this hotel?" Anne asks, background noise finding it's way through with her voice.

"It's part of the Tomlinson's chain," Harry whispers.

"Oh," Anne breathes out, "Tomlinson?"

"Louis' in my biology class, " Harry sputters out, "But I didn't talk to him. He didn't see me so I didn't talk to him. He never called, Mum! So, I didn't know what to do. I'm going to see him again, tomorrow in class. I don't know what to do."

"Go talk to him," and when Anne says it, it sounds so simple and easy, "He was your best friend for ages, if you've met again, it can't just be a coincidence."

That's exactly the thing though. It isn't a coincidence that their paths have crossed again. Harry fought his way into the city, he wanted this to happen. But, he didn't think it would happen so fast, so unprecedented, "I don't know how that would work out," Harry mutters.

"I don't see how ignoring him is going to get you anywhere, Harry."

"What if he doesn't want to talk to me," Harry asks.

"And if he does? You'll never know if you don't talk to him," Anne replies.

Harry knows its's true. He really needs to talk to Louis. How long can he go hiding in the back of the classroom? A small voice in the back of Harry's head screams at him to switch out into a different class.

"I will," Harry nods at the ceiling, "I'll talk to him."

With that thought in mind, Harry finds himself whispering greetings to himself randomly throughout the day.

"Oh, hello, biology homework, haven't seen you since we kissed on your last night in Cheshire," Harry smiles at his biology textbook, "Don't know about you, but I've been hooked ever since."


	23. {Part II The Present}

Harry trudges into biology class on Thursday with his hands nervously clasped in front of him. He plans on talking to Louis. Harry gets to the classroom and sits in the second row, behind the seat Louis had sat in. The professor walks in and begins the lecture.

Louis doesn't show.

At the end of the day, when Harry arrives at his apartment, he gets a call from David, his Agent.

"I need you to attend a party tonight," David says.

"It's Thursday," Harry replies.

"It doesn't matter what day it is, people party all the time," David huffs, "It's more of a gala the company is hosting, anyway."

Harry sighs, "Why do I need to go?"

"Because, I managed to get you a ticket!" David exclaims, "And because there are going to be people there who could change your life!"

"Isn't changing my life your job?"

"I'll be changing your life by taking you there."

"Fine," Harry sighs again, "I'm just really tired."

"That's alright, I won't come for you till eight. You can sleep till then," David suggests, "I'll bring you something to wear. Do you want Burberry or Yves Saint Laurent?"

Harry coughs, "What?"

"Pick one," David chuckles back, "You've got to look your best."

"Um, YSL?"

"Saint Laurent it is! See you then, my precious money maker," David jokes.

"Bye," Harry snorts.

David pops up right on time as he promised. For the second time, Harry finds himself sluggishly getting out of bed only to be hauled off. Except, this time, it isn't just David.

"This is Soraya, she's one of the makeup artists who got you ready at your shoot," David introduces a middle aged woman to Harry.

Harry immediately recognizes her face, "Hi!" He beams, smiling sleepily.

"'Soraya is going to do your hair and makeup for today," David announces, "It's an important day for you."

"Or so you keep saying," Harry raises an eyebrow.

"It is, if you play it right," Soraya sides with David.

They prep up Harry in a black and white floral suit which actually is Gucci and not one of the options Harry was given.

"I thought you were getting YSL," Harry mock pouts.

David smiles back, "I figured sticking out would do you some good. You're new and unknown. The suit will make people's heads turn and they will remember you."

Soraya readies Harry as David stands in a different room chatting away on his phone. Perhaps it's business, perhaps it's not. Harry doesn't ask.

Once Harry is ready, Soraya heads off in a company car and David pulls Harry into his black vehicle.

"Listen," David grabs Harry's hand in both of his, "You need to use this party to make friends."

Harry's eyes widen, "I'm not good at that!"

"You need friends, that's how you climb the ladder in this industry."

"Can't I just wait for someone to befriend me instead of reaching out?" Harry asks.

"No," David laughs, "You use friendships to climb ladders.

As life would have it, the gala is taking place at Tomlinson's. Harry knows Louis isn't actually there, but his last name is plastered across the hotel in large letters. That's all it takes to rattle Harry's nerves.

The ballroom everyone is gathered in is absolutely exquisite, and Harry finds himself realizing that Louis' family is actually really rich.

Back in England, Louis' family had been well off and his parents would spend money on Harry without hesitating. At the time, Harry thought nothing of it. But now, looking at the interior of a hotel which belongs to a chain owned by Louis' parents, Harry realizes just how different their lives have been. No wonder Louis forgot about him. He always had enough, always had things going on. Why would he hold on to a small boy from Cheshire.

Harry finds himself standing alone at the bar during most of the event. He chats up people who come and go but mainly he's talking to the bartenders who are much humbler and nicer than everyone else.

After being stood there, sipping away for too long, Harry heads on out to the bathroom. He's got to get his act together. There is no way David is going to let it go if Harry walks out of here with nothing to show.

Harry is fixing his clothes up in the mirror when someone stumbles in, giggling to themselves. The shorter person bumps into Harry and falls backward.

"Oops!" Harry shouts, spinning around and oh... It's Louis.

Louis laughs, eyes shut. He looks absolutely beautiful sitting on the floor in a dark, sparkling black suit.

Harry swallows and reaches his hand out toward Louis.

Louis opens his eyes and grabs Harry's hand with his smaller one, "Hi," He says, shaking Harry's hand.

"I was helping you up," Harry laughs amusedly.

"Oh!" Louis throws his other hand up as well, "Please, do!"

Harry grabs both of Louis' soft, warm, little hands and thinks his heart is going to leap out of his throat. Here he is, holding Louis' hands but at the same time he thinks his heart has shattered. Louis doesn't remember his face. Louis doesn't recognize him at all. All those years they spent together and here Louis is, acting as though Harry's a stranger.

Louis' head comes to Harry's shoulders when he stands. He tilts his head back, smiling up, "Tall one, aren't you?" He laughs.

Its takes Harry a moment but from the tipsy stance and flushed cheeks, he knows Louis has had too much to drink. A little glimmer of hope shines in Harry's eyes. Maybe Louis just doesn't remember him at the moment.

"Will you help me to my room?" Louis softly asks, "It's up in the penthouse."

"Um," Harry nods, "Sure."

"I don't actually live here anymore," Louis sighs, babbling from the drinks he's had, "I have an apartment I share with my brother."

"Zayn?" Harry asks.

"Yes!" Louis excitedly claps, "You know him?"

"Yeah," Harry nods, "We have photography together."

"Fantastic!" Louis cheers, "Zayn is great. He's great," Louis reaches out and grabs Harry's arm with his little hands, "Take me up?"

"Of course, will you tell me the way?" Harry gently asks.

"Yeah!" Louis leans against Harry's arm and sighs, "Just get into the elevator. There's one on the right end of the hall if you go out the doors in the back."

Harry glows at the contact of Louis' warm body. He's more than happy to be here in this moment, "Let's go."

So, Harry walks Louis through the crowded gala where no one seems to see anything past themselves. Louis giggles the whole way and talks about Zayn. And if Harry walks slower just so he can have Louis leaning on his arm for longer, no one notices that either.

"Zayn's a great person. He's always there," Louis sighs, "He does what he needs to, but he never hurts people. He's always there."

"He seems lovely," Harry replies.

"Not like that friend I used to have," Louis sighs again, "He never called me."

Harry stiffens at that, "What friend?"

"I don't remember him well," Louis replies, "But we kissed once, back in England."

Suddenly, Harry knows Louis is talking about him, "Oh, you don't remember him?"

They reach the elevator and Louis presses the up arrow, "No. A lot of my childhood memories are blurred. I was in a car crash. I hit my head."

Harry's throat tightens, "Really?" And here he was, thinking Louis wanted nothing to do with him.

"Yes," The elevator dings open and Louis drags Harry in, "It's all gone, you know? Every memory is gone except fuzzy memories of him. Some of his family, I think. It's so stupid."

"Do you remember his name?" Harry asks, feelings torn between hurt and joy. It makes sense now as to why Louis never called, but his poor Louis had to go through so much.

"No," Louis replies, "But he liked bananas."

Harry laughs gently, "Did he?"

"I have a stuffed toy he gave me," Louis tells him, "His name is Mr. Yellow and it's a fucking banana!"

"Really?" Harry wheezes out, tears pricking at his eyes, "You still have it?"

"I'd show it to you, but it's at my apartment," Louis giggles, slouching against Harry even more.

"Why'd you keep it?" Harry questions as the elevator comes to a stop. They've reached the top floor.

"My mum told what we both had was special. She said it was the special kind of friendship that comes by once in a lifetime," Louis takes a deep breath and hums as he lets it out, "It was more than that. I never told her we kissed."

"Louis," Harry sadly whispers, "You really don't remember him?"

"No, I don't!" Louis' suddenly angry, "Shut up about him!" He stomps away, "Besides, it's good I don't!"

"Why?" Harry coos, following Louis forward through the expensive penthouse they're now in.

"He was soft," Louis laughs, "He was so soft and sweet. He'd hate me now."

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Harry's heart is breaking.

"I've become a horrible person," Louis laughs again, "Trust me, he would."

Harry follows Louis into his room, "You can't be sure."

"Listen," Louis says, turning on the light, "Ignore my drunken blabbering, will you?"

Harry shrugs, "Sure."

"Come here," Louis pulls Harry's tie and yanks him toward his bed.

Harry chokes, not from Louis pulling his tie but from him pulling him toward the bed, "What?"

"Come on," Louis groans, "Don't act like you brought me up here to be a good person."

"You asked me to," Harry sputters.

"Yeah," Louis snorts, "With a motive, you have one too."

Harry shakes his head, "My motive is not to take advantage of you when you're drunk."

"Stop talking," Louis groans, "I'm not drunk! Quit acting like you didn't follow me up here thinking you could get laid."

"Louis," Harry sighs, pain tightening his chest.

"How do you even know my name?" Louis snorts, "Get out of here."

"Listen to me," Harry urges.

"No, just go," Louis frowns, "I'll find someone else if I want to. Someone who doesn't do stupid little 'not to take advantage of you' shit!"

Harry feels tears prick at his eyes, yet again. He wills them back, "Louis, are you okay?"

Louis groans, "Don't ask me that. I don't know you, and I do not want to talk to you."

"No," Harry shakes his head, "You were genuinely talking to me till a few minutes ago."

Louis loosens his tie, "I just wanted a good time," He moans, "I don't care about you, get out."

Harry shakes his head again, "Louis," His heart hurts so bad now he thinks it's going to crack open and he'll die on the spot.

Louis pouts and falls back onto the bed, "I don't know what to do," He mutters to himself.

"You can talk to me," Harry offers.

"Not right now," Louis dismissively says.

"Alright," Harry pulls out his phone and awkwardly stares at the screen.

Louis looks up, "Is that yours?"

"Yeah," Harry replies, "I guess."

Louis sits up and grabs the phone out of Harry's soft hands, "I might talk to you later."

"You're putting your number in?" Harry grins.

"Yeah, you dumb model," Louis snorts, jokingly as he punches his number into Harry's phone.

Louis hands the phone back to Harry, and Harry takes it a little too quickly. "Why is your name Louis Cookie?" Harry laughs lightly.

"I love cookies!" Louis grins, stretching out and rolling himself up in the blanket.

Harry laughs, "You still do, huh?" He looks down at his phone and types out a text to Louis Cookie, "I'll leave a text so you have my number," But, when Harry looks back up, Louis is asleep.

Harry sighs as he studies Louis' little face. He hasn't changed one bit. He's still so small and gentle. Harry's gotten much taller and broader, but Louis is still absolutely adorable. The scruff and evident cheekbones are the only change in Louis' features. Same soft hair, same arched brows.

Louis shifts in his sleep and nuzzles his face into the pillow.

Harry suddenly realizes how odd it is of him to be sitting here. He gets up and leaves the room. He might remember Louis, but Louis doesn't know him anymore. He's going to have to keep his distance as he figures this out.

Harry thinks to himself then, that he should be Louis' friend. They should start it all over and he'll be good for Louis, so good that Louis can pull himself together and be happy and maybe just maybe... They could end up happily together. Just maybe.


	24. {Part II The Present}

Harry finds the weekend hard to get through. He could have gone out with Xale and Niall, spent some of his time actually doing something, meeting new people perhaps, but he doesn't. 

Harry sits in his apartment and only leaves to exercise or get food. The first week of university doesn't necessarily end with a load of homework, but Harry pulls out his assignments and works on them nonetheless.

His neatly organized binders hold the syllabuses in their front clear pockets as he reads through them, trying to get ahead in his assignments. He even starts a new show on Netflix and finishes all 4 seasons within 4 days. He's not done that in a while and he finds himself rather amused that he can sit around that long staring at a screen.

Every and now and then, his phone buzzes with one of his few friends trying to talk or even his mother or sister saying hi and asking how he is. Harry responds, but for the most part he stays away from his phone.

Every time his phone is in his hand, Harry scrolls down to Louis Cookie and stares at the contact. 

Once, he accidentally presses the name and his phone takes him to the message/call menu, Louis' number stares up at him from the brightly lit screen. Harry locks his matte black iPhone 7 and tosses it to the other side of the couch.

Monday morning finally rolls around and Harry sleepily reaches across the table for his phone. Two messages light up, one is from David, and the other is from Louis Cookie.

Harry panics, sitting up and unlocking his phone in a rush. He check's David's message, informing him there's a shoot at 5pm today, then he locks his phone and tucks it under his pillow. 

Why is Louis texting him? Louis shouldn't remember meeting Harry that night, he was far too drunk. Or does he?

"Just check it, damnit!" Harry whispers to himself.

He slides his trembling fingers under the pillow and brings out the phone. The screen shines bright, lighting up his lock screen, the notification from Louis currently hidden from view.

Harry places his thumb on the home button, his fingerprint gets read and the phone opens, already in the messages app. Louis' name is the second to the top, the beginning of the message visible. Harry glides his thumb over the message, the chat opens.

"Hello, I don't quite remember you ! I know you helped me to my room at the party the other day so thank you for that! I also talked to Zayn and he said he knows a Harry who's a model so you're probably the same guy. Maybe we could hang out ! From what I remember, you were nice."

Harry takes a deep breath. Nice. Louis thinks that Harry is nice. Nice. That's a good thing to be. Louis doesn't remember much but he thinks that Harry is nice. Nice.

"Thank you ! You seemed nice as well ! Yeah I know Zayn !"

Harry looks at his typed out message. There are too many exclamation points. He needs to change it.

"Thank you, you seemed nice as well ! Yeah I know Zayn."

Hm, now when Harry reads it, it makes it seem as if he isn't interested in hanging out with him. Harry ponders this in his mind then presses send anyway. An idea pops into his mind. He can just go up to Louis tomorrow. He can say "Hey, I'm Harry, you called me nice and it made me blush, " and sit next to him in class. Well, maybe not the last part of that sentence, but the greeting he can say. 

Maybe they could start over as friends. If only Harry could muster up the courage to speak.

So, Harry takes this little burst of joy and pushes himself off his bed. His day goes by quickly as he spends it cleaning up and thinking of Louis. 5pm rolls around and Harry is hauled away to another Abercrombie shoot. This time, he's more expressive, mainly smiley, but everyone loves it.

"You look like a happy American boy! That's exactly what we're going for, an attractive, all American boy!" The lady behind the camera tells him.

"I'm British!" Harry grins back, "I am very, very British!"

Everyone in the rooms bursts into melodious laughs and Harry smiles brighter, the camera flashes in his face. It's a great shoot, even David doesn't say anything about Abercrombie being "shit" after the shoot is over.

Harry stares out the window at Tomlinson's hotel while waiting for the elevator at the end of the work session. 

This will be okay. It's all going to be alright. Whatever happens, at least he is here now, and at least he is trying.

"Good day today, huh?" David pats Harry's back, "Lively boy, didn't know that."

"Yeah," Harry blushes and shrugs.

"I suppose you're finally settling in?"

The elevator doors open and they both step in, David presses the button for the first floor.

"It's starting to feel better here," Harry smiles.

"How's college coming along?" David asks, "You're at the University of Chicago?"

"Yeah, It's good. I met some nice people there, it makes all the difference having someone you know."

"Yes, it does."

Harry takes a deep breath and sighs. It makes a huge difference just having a friend around. And so, Harry decides he needs to appreciate the friends he's in the process of making and actually continue to strengthen the bond. 

On his ride back to his apartment, Harry texts Xale, and tells her to come over for a movie or come do something with Niall. She replies immediately and says if they're coming they're sleeping over.

Harry laughs at her bluntness, she's the type of person you wish you could be. She's unforgivingly herself. If people don't like her she probably tells them to screw off and moves on to others who do. Harry can see that in her. She surrounds herself with positivity and people who care, instead of striving for the approval of people who don't.

Louis didn't respond to Harry, but that's okay, Harry will see him tomorrow.

Niall and Xale arrive half an hour after Harry reaches. They greet him with hugs and Harry feels warm and happy, like he's floating on a fluffy pink cloud. It's a good feeling, to see some positivity in the future and actually being able to enjoy a moment. 

Xale and Niall actually arrive in sleepwear. Xale isn't dressed like she normally is, there is no jewelry and her hair is swept back into a neat french braid, long hair trailing down her spine. Niall on the other hand looks the same in black sweats and a black shirt, hair messy but clearly meant to look that way.

"Are you wearing pants!" Harry mock gasps at her.

"Crazy, I know," Xale nods.

"She takes them off to sleep, don't even begin to think she wears pants," Niall snorts.

"Not when there's people around," Xale reassures Harry, "I'm not like Niall."

"What do you mean?" Niall asks, moving toward the couch and removing his shirt.

Harry cackles at their exchange, they're complete idiots and he loves it. 

"I just," Niall slides his sweats down and kicks them away, he drops back onto the couch and stretches, "I don't know what you mean!"

"Idiot," Xale snorts.

All three of them cuddle together under soft blankets Xale brought. They find a horror movie on Netflix. Harry snuggles between the both of them and cracks jokes at the suspenseful scenes. It doesn't take long for Niall and Xale join in, mocking the film rather than watching it, it's more fun that way. 

Harry doesn't know when he doses off.


	25. {Part II The Present}

Harry has class today. He hasn't been this excited for school since he was a child. Now, however, he is. Louis actually texted him once. Unless you count the first text which said "Hi", but Louis had only sent that so Harry would have his number. Also Louis was completely out of his senses when he sent that.

Niall wakes up and squints at Harry as he's going out the door for a morning run. Harry smiles at Niall when he notices the blankets moving.

"Are you going to class? Are we late?" Niall's sleep heavy voice questions.

"No," Harry whispers back, "I'm going for a run, good morning."

"Models," Niall snorts as he tucks his face back into the couch cushion, "Goodnight."

Xale on the other hand is passed out on the floor, phone clutched in her right hand, unaware of her surroundings.

Harry runs a straight line down his street, weaving around the pedestrians. 

There are so many people here, they're everywhere. Chicago is quite big. 

At ten minutes his phone vibrates and Harry turns around. He's caught between the tall buildings and the din of cars and voices, all muddled together. No one gives him a second look as they all bustle past him to take on their day. 

So many people yet no one glances your way, it's almost as lonely as actually being alone.

By the time Harry gets back to his apartment, a shine of sweat covering his face, Xale is gone and Niall is getting dressed. 

"Hey," Harry says, "Good morning," Since Niall is actually getting up this time.

"Morning," Niall replies, yawning, "How was your run, mate?"

"Decent, decent," Harry nods, "Xale ran off?"

"Yeah, she had something to do, I guess," Niall mutters something under his breath, "Never know with her."

Harry smiles at him softly, "Niall, take a shower we can go to campus together."

Niall looks up at Harry, "I haven't got a change of clothes."

Harry shrugs, "I'm sure you've gone a day without changing your underwear before."

"No!" Niall gets defensive.

They both look at each other for a quiet moment, then burst out laughing in unison. 

"I'm fine, I shower at night, anyway," Niall finally says, "Go get your pretty ass ready, we'll go together."

"I'm pretty?" Harry blushes.

"It was a model reference."

"So, I'm not pretty?" Harry pouts.

"Go ask Louis."

Harry blushes again and Niall laughs.

Harry gets dressed in black skinny jeans and a loose, pink, floral shirt that displays his chest and the silver cross, that always dangles in the middle. Niall and him get on the transit together, heading toward the university. Harry is buzzing internally, the excitement of perhaps seeing Louis again, and actually talking to him is zinging all the way to his little toes. They switch to a bus and Niall falls asleep against Harry's shoulder during the short ride. 

When the pair reach the university, Harry nudges Niall awake and they get up. A quick goodbye later, Niall heads toward the dorms and Harry toward the science building. Harry practically skips into his biology class and sits down in the second row, leaving a seat empty by the aisle. He sits beside the door, behind where Louis had sat. Harry pulls out his notes and pretends he will be paying attention in class, rather than staring at Louis the whole time. His heart is happy and loud, thrumming around in a little field of colorful flowers, after all he never did find a way out after they kissed.

Harry sees the professor arrive, and right behind him, in walks Louis Tomlinson, clad in all black and gleaming white adidas sneakers. He's wearing a beanie again, tufts of brown hair poking through, face placid, not showing any emotion. Harry's eyes nearly pop out of his head, jaw going slack.

Louis glances at Harry as he steps into the room, blue eyes slicing through green for a second.

Harry feels his face flush and his eyes dart away. His breath is caught in his throat and butterflies erupt all through his stomach

Louis goes for the seat in front of Harry as Harry had expected. But, last minute Louis hesitates, takes a step upward and slides into the seat next to Harry.

Harry doesn't know what breathing is anymore. The simple process of taking in oxygen and releasing carbon dioxide is a foreign concept and his heart maybe skips a beat and starts up again, louder.

Harry keeps his head down, organizing his papers on the tiny desk. Louis is staring at him. Harry doesn't know what to do.

The professor starts the lecture and Louis looks away. Harry finally breathes, glancing up at Louis with his head still down. 

Louis looks at him again and Harry lifts his head up and smiles, so as not to seem creepy. 

Louis' thin lips curl into the most seductive smile Harry has ever seen and suddenly, Harry thinks he shouldn't have dared to smile at Louis. Because the smile he receives back is deadly. Is it possible to die from a heart attack from a mere look?

The professor continues talking in the background and Louis and Harry continue to smile at each other. Harry's grin is sweet, and large, almost child like, and Louis' is seductive, devilish and mesmerizing. 

Their gazes lasts a few seconds too long before Louis speaks, "You look mighty familiar," A hint of England still lingering his dialect. 

"I'm Harry," Harry responds, swooning over Louis' mere existence as he tries to speak coherently, "Harry Styles."

"Oh, you're the Harry from the party?" And Louis' smile turns slightly more friendly, all while remaining intimidatingly attractive.

Harry nods, crinkling his nose in fondness at Louis, "That would be me."

The professor pauses his lecture, looking at the two before continuing.

"We shouldn't talk," Harry whispers, raising his eyebrows and turning to the professor.

"Of course, of course," The "r" vanishes from Louis' pronunciation, the word sounding British, just like Louis' origins. It makes Harry blush further for some reason. Not that Louis seems to be noticing that.

Louis' focus turns to the professor and he does not take a single note on the material, but Harry notices the phone lying in front of Louis, recording the entire lecture for later reference. 

Harry on the other hand, jots down a few notes here or there but mainly he's trying not to smile the whole time and trying so desperately to act like he can't feel the heat radiating off Louis' body. Which he shouldn't, they are not sat so close that Harry should be able to feel Louis' body heat. But Harry can. And maybe it's just because he's going a little insane. Not that he would admit that to anyone. He can barely even admit it to himself.


	26. {Part II The Present}

So, it begins, once again. As if it were the first time, the two boys exit the classroom sharing small talk back and forth. Louis' eyes are glowing with curiosity and Harry's with warmth and adoration for the boy who is finally here again.

"You new here?" Louis asks when they step out of the classroom.

Harry nods, "Yeah just came for uni and got a small modeling gig."

"Oh yeah!" Louis laughs, "That would explain a lot."

"What?" Harry asks.

"Like, why you were at my hotel the other ni- or um... not mine but my parents' hotel."

"Yeah, I honestly don't know why I'm doing it but they're basically paying me to live here so, I figured I'd go find myself an adventure."

"Ah, cheeky lad," Louis smiles, "Looking for adventure in Chicago. Should have gone to New York or Los Angeles, there's loads more adventure there."

"I figured I'd find you- um, people like you and Zayn and Xale and Niall in Chicago," Harry catches himself before he can say something creepy, "The bigger the city the more competitive the people, all they want to do is climb."

"True that, Harry," Louis nods, "Smart young lad."

Harry suddenly realizes he's walking toward his photography class and Louis is casually following along, "Don't you have another class today?" Harry questions.

"Not for another hour," Louis responds. 

They go inside the classroom and sit there chatting away mindlessly about school and Harry's modeling career. Harry's nerves are relaxing and he finds himself laughing along to Louis' jokes. He's getting to know Louis again, and it's wonderful. Louis is essentially the same, just more mature, a little less goofy, but the same little bright blue eyed boy who is so full of life you find yourself getting pulled to him without wanting to be. You find yourself getting pulled to him and his warmth because that's what you need in your life, that's what you've been looking for ever since you lost it.

Harry looks toward the door just as Xale walks in. Her eyes nearly bug out of her head when she see's Louis sat next to Harry. Louis is texting away at the moment, not paying attention. Xale grabs her head and runs out of the room. Louis doesn't notice, what a blessing. 

Two seconds later however, Harry sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye. When he looks back at the door, Niall and Xale are walking in together, Niall's face in a huge grin and Xale with a poker face as if she didn't act crazy two seconds ago.

"Who's your friend?" Niall asks, sliding in the seat next to Louis.

Harry gives Niall a tight smile, nervous about how this is going to go, "Niall, this is Louis, Louis, that's Niall."

Louis looks up from his phone and smiles, "Hello, Niall. Hey Xale."

"Who are you?" Xale asks.

Harry's mouth drops open. What is she doing?

"Your father, you piece of absolute filth," Louis responds, and they both break into laughter.

"It's good to see you! Xale leans on her table, smiling back at Louis, "I don't think we've talked since high school. I've been coming to your parties, you know? I've just never run into you, Louis."

Harry can't help constantly being a little envious of Xale. He knows her and Louis were not really close friends but still, they have known each other, and Louis remembers her.

"These are your friends?" Louis asks Harry.

"Yes. I think Zayn too. He's your brother."

Louis nods at that, "Interesting. I'll have to catch up with you later Harry, actually I should catch up with all of you guys later," He stands up and grabs his back pack, "Got a class to get to for now!"

Harry feels a pang at Louis getting up so quickly, they didn't really talk for a long time just nearly half an hour and parts of those times Louis was checking his phone. 

"Bye, Harry," Louis shouts, heading for the door.

Harry opens his mouth but shuts it because Louis has already turned down the hallway. He sighs out a soft bye and doesn't dare to make contact with the two idiots sitting on his left.

"We won't ask," Niall says, reassuringly patting Harry's knee, "You can talk to us if you want."

"I'll ask," Xale snorts, "But I won't force you to answer. So, what was that?"

Harry's response is short, and he knows he doesn't want to say anything more, "He's in my biology class, you know this."

Xale hasn't even spoken again before Niall whispers, "Shut your mouth," and Xale sighs in response.

Harry doesn't want to talk about things when there's nothing really going on. They aren't even friends yet, he doesn't even know Louis yet. Harry doesn't want anyone else to hear about this it will only encourage his silly dreams to grow. If it all comes crashing down, he wants to keep it all to himself, he doesn't want anyone else's pity.

However, when Harry gets home after his classes, he dials his mother. Anne and Gemma both listen from the other line as Harry tells them he talked to Louis. He tells them that Louis lost his memory. He says he doesn't know what's going on. Harry tells them Louis remembers his first kiss was with his best friend. From the other side of the line Gemma giggles and Anne says that Gemma was right all along. 

Harry realizes what he's said and tries to cover up, but Gemma and Anne both shush him, telling him that he's never been able to really keep anything a secret anyway. Still, Harry convinces them that none of those feelings are left over and Gemma and Anne listen to him patiently, telling him if that's what he's saying, they'll believe him.

Harry goes to sleep quickly that night. His head hits the pillow and he's out. In his dreams, he runs around in a field of pink flowers and it rains gently, a cool breeze ruffling through the flowers. He's happier.


	27. {Part II The Present}

A week later, Louis invites Harry over to his and Zayn's apartment. Harry shoves his biology homework away and shoots out of bed, saying he'll be right over and claiming he wasn't doing anything anyway. 

Harry clambers into black skinny jeans and a floral top with the buttons half undone as usual.

On his way there, Harry stops at a random bakery on the street. He rushes inside and buys a dozen chocolate chip cookies. 

Louis swings opens the door when Harry rings the doorbell. He's dressed in gray sweats and a white tank top. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one arm and defined muscles that make Harry forget how to breathe properly.

When Harry presents him with the box of cookies, Louis' face turns into the sun. His bright blue eyes turn impossibly brighter and he laughs at the surprise.

"Harold, I hope you understand that these are all mine and you're not getting any," Louis says, "Cookies are my favorite!"

Harry grins at that, "I tried one at the bakery before I got them, I hope you think they're as good as I do."

"Awe, how sweet, maybe you can get yourself some more on the way home."

Harry laughs, because Louis is still the same snappy little boy he remembers.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Louis asks, holding the door open as Harry walks in, "I don't have anything planned to do, I was just alone and figured we could hang out."

"Yeah, that sounds good, what movie?" Harry asks, as he strolls into the apartment, taking in the spacious view.

"I don't know," Louis shrugs making his way to the kitchen.

The kitchen isn't exactly it's own room, it's simply the right end of the enormous space sectioned off with an "L" shaped counter. Louis and Zayn have the high counter lined with four bar stools. To the left side, a plain, modern looking chandelier hangs over a round dinner table.

"V for Vendetta is good," Harry offers an option, "It's beautifully made."

"Is it on Netflix?" Louis asks, pulling out milk and two glasses.

"I think so, if not, there's websites we can watch it on," Harry pauses, "Not that I encourage watching pirated movies online."

Louis laughs, "The internet is a beautiful place."

Harry smiles, unsure how to continue the conversation, "Yes, quite"

"Yes, quite," Louis mocks, "British piece of shit."

"Hey!" Harry whines, "What are you then?"

Louis places the cookies in a plate and snorts, "I'm a damn American, don't speak to me, we dumped your tea in the harbor for a reason."

They laugh together. 

Louis brings them both a glass of milk and shares the cookies with Harry as they watch the movie. It's pleasant. They make a few comments here and there but mainly they just watch the movie, together.

At one point Harry reaches for a cookie and his hand brushes Louis'. Louis doesn't seem to react but Harry's breath hitches and he flinches his hand back, reaching for a different cookie, one that Louis' isn't reaching for. 

When the movie is done, Louis doesn't seem to be impressed and Harry gently pushes, pointing out details that make it a good film. They're in the middle of their discussion when the front door flies open and in walks Zayn.

"Harry?" Zayn questions.

"Hi, Zayn," Harry grins, "Good to see you mate," He jumps off the couch and walks up to give Zayn a quick hug.

"I didn't know you both were friends," Zayn says, glancing between Louis and Harry, "And, I didn't know you would be home tonight," Zayn adds, pointedly staring at Louis.

"Well, I am," Louis shrugs.

Zayn glances behind his shoulder and bites his lip, "Well..."

Harry leans to the side and looks outside. 

A young man who looks about their age is standing behind Zayn with wide eyes, looking bewildered.

"Hello," Harry calls out, "Zayn, let your friend in," Harry says, pulling the door completely open.

The door opens revealing a brown haired, brown eyed kind face with somewhat broad shoulders and thin legs, he smiles a tight lipped smile, as if he's embarrassed, "Oh, hello."

Louis tilts his head and smiles mischievously from the couch, "Ah, Liam."

"Yes," Liam answers, his accent also sounds British. Funny how people who are similar all flock to each other.

"How have you been treating my brother?" Louis asks, still grinning, "Come here, sit, let's chat, shall we?"

Liam's eyes are still wide with panic, "Yes sir, absolutely!"

"Louis," Zayn sighs, dragging a hand down his face, "Louis no, he's an innocent, kind person please let him be for once."

Harry grins as he realizes Zayn and Liam are dating. People who are similar really do end up flocking together one way or another, it seems.

"No, I just want to talk," Louis grins, his smile is all edgy and his posture dominant, yet he's sitting next to a plate of cookies and holding an empty milk glass. 

Liam walks up stiff and formal as if he's meeting Zayn's parents and not just his brother, "Louis, pleasure to see you again."

"Liam, have a cookie," Louis says, offering forth the plate.

Zayn groans and Harry grins at the display Louis is putting on.

Liam hastily grabs a cookie, "Yes, thank you."

"Try it."

Liam takes a bite and is still chewing when Louis talks.

"Sit. How is it?"

Liam tries to chew faster, while nodding.

"I asked how is it?" Louis shouts.

Poor Liam jumps and speaks with his mouth full, "It's fantastic, it's really good, thank you."

"Good. Don't talk with your mouth full ever again. Now get out of my sight and treat my brother like a god or the next time you see me, you'll be eating my fist," Louis smiles pleasantly.

"Louis, what the hell?" Zayn groans as Liam gets up and rushes to Zayn.

Louis shrugs and turns to Harry, "Come on Harold, we were discussing the film."

"Yeah," Harry grins and walks back to Louis.

Zayn grabs Liam's hands and pulls him out of the living room down a hall, probably to his bedroom to get away from Louis.

As soon as they're gone, Harry bursts out laughing, "Louis, you scared the poor boy!"

Louis smiles proudly at Harry's reaction, "Gotta do what I gotta do."

"They're dating?" Harry asks, "Since when?"

"It's been about a year," Louis shrugs, "Whenever I see Liam he's uncomfortable and trying to prove to me that he's good, so I like to scare him."

"If my family did that to my boyfriend, I'd never bring him home," Harry giggles.

Louis smiles softly at Harry, "Boyfriend, eh?"

Harry feels his face heat up, not that it should but it does. People usually assume you're straight and telling them otherwise can be slightly uncomfortable, "Yeah, I don't have a preference."

"That's beautiful, Harry," Louis says, voice getting as soft and quiet as his smile, "You're comfortable with it, that's beautiful."

Harry blushes further as he conjures up a question, "And you?"

"I've got a girlfriend," Louis says, not really answering the question.

Harry nods, eyes flickering to the ground, not willing to look Louis in the eye. Scared that Louis might read his soul if he made eye contact.


	28. {Part II The Present}

That week at school they get assigned a major editing project in photography and Harry has a Biology exam on the way. 

The goal of the photography project is to create a story using only the pictures they have taken in class. Everyone will be presenting next week. 

Harry's decided he can get that done over the weekend and spends his week studying for the Biology exam on Thursday. Biology is pretty straightforward, it's nothing new that Harry hasn't learned before. He finds himself completing his studying quickly that Wednesday night and decides to head out for dinner.

The first person Harry calls while getting ready is Louis, the phone continues ringing and nobody picks up. So, he sighs and calls his other friends. Niall is the only one who answers.

"Will you come eat Dinner with me?" Harry asks, "I'm sure you know of a great place to go."

"Um," Niall pauses, "Yeah, there's a great burger joint near your apartment I think it's called Bobs Burgers," He responds, "You should try that but I can't make it."

"Oh," Harry says, giving up on and styling his hair and staring at the phone, "Okay, school stuff?"

"Yeah," Niall almost cries in a whiny voice, "I have two exams tomorrow!"

"Well good luck studying mate, and thanks for telling me about Bob's. Didn't mean to disturb you," Harry picks his phone off the counter, keeping it on speaker.

"You didn't disturb, don't worry about it," Niall quickly responds, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Yeah, goodnight," Harry sighs as he ends the call. 

Well then, he can just go alone and eat. Life is short and he's not afraid of going out and doing things alone. Harry learned when he was young that if you never go out alone, you will never learn to be alone.

So, Harry heads out into the dimming sun of Chicago. The early September air is crisp, fall is right around the corner, just waiting to jump out and shed the trees of all their leaves.

His phone is in his hand as he follows the walking route to Bob's Burgers. It's a ten minute walk. Harry isn't used to walking a lot, but he's becoming accustomed to it. He likes the city very much.

It suddenly occurs to him that there's a huge fresh water lake the city is built on, he wants to go to a beach before the days becoming colder. Harry shoots Xale and Niall a group text, telling them that it's about time they showed him a lake Michigan beach. Xale responds immediately, saying they should all go this weekend, to Montrose Beach. Harry grins at his phone and returns to maps.

Bob's Burgers is a small restaurant with small booths lining the wall opposite the counter and stools along the long counter. The entire place is pink and white, it looks like an old American diner. Harry finds himself enjoying the vibe immediately and he snaps a quick picture, sending it to Anne and Gemma as he waits in line.

Anne and Gemma don't reply of course, they're probably sound asleep in England at this point.

Harry orders a spicy chicken sandwich and chips and the lady at the register tells him they don't have chips.

"Yes you do," Harry states, "So many people have them on the side," Harry gestures around him at the chips in everyones plates.

"Potato chips?" The old lady repeats.

"Yes they're made out of potatoes, they're long and crispy and you fry them."

"Fries are long and crispy, honey," The lady says, "You mean fries?"

Harry pauses, "Erm, yes wait yes. Crisps are chips and chips are fries. I'm so sorry, you're right, could I get a side of fries with that sandwich?"

The old lady chuckles, "Fresh from England, that's adorable, honey, yes I'll get your food for you."

Harry blushes and laughs along, "Yeah, I'm here studying, I guess I don't speak American yet."

The lady laughs harder when Harry says "American". 

Harry slides onto a stool by the front window and awaits his food. The same old lady, who's name Harry discovers is Martha, slides his food down to him along with a strawberry shake.

"Oh, this isn't mine!" Harry calls to her, referring to the light pink drink.

"It's on the house, honey," Martha replies with a wave of her hand. 

Harry grins and takes a sip of the sweet mixture. He slides his phone out and texts Anne and Gemma a picture of his food too. Tells them it's fairly cheap, good, and theres an old lady who's really nice.

Harry is finished eating, twirling his straw around his drink and talking to Martha in between customers when there's a loud bang outside. His head snaps to the side and he sees a large black van has run into a smaller parked car right in front of the restaurant. A group of masked figures wearing all black piles out and into the restaurant, one of them fires a gun into the ceiling and everyone cowers away from the figure. 

"Who's running this place?" A deep voice yells, "You!" He points at Martha, "Put all the money in the bag!"

The one asking for money moves toward the register and shoves the bag at Martha, "Come on woman, get the cash from the back too or I'll be forced to come back there and get it myself."

Martha looks surprisingly calm and she complies to all their commands without challenging them. It's a safe move on her part.

Harry is quiet, frozen in his corner, studying the figures holding the guns. They've got their eyes trained on the customers, guns moving between people, making sure no one moves. The gun passes over Harry, the figure pauses on him and Harry panics, eyes going wide. The figure moves the gun and continues staring at Harry.

Martha comes out from the back with the bag looking only half full.

"Where is it?" The man at the counter points the gun in Martha's face, "Where is the rest of the money?"

"That's all we have honey, people tend to use credit cards these days, not cash," Martha hands the bag to the man who grabs it and strolls back to the door. 

"Head out," He orders. 

The figures let him pass and back out with their guns still aimed on the customers. People on the sidewalks outside scramble in the opposite direction, staying out of the path of the thieves. 

The car drives away and that is when Harry takes in a huge breath of air. Some of the people immediately run out of the place, others stay and ask Martha if she's okay. Someone in the back must have called the police because Harry can hear the sirens, but the black van is gone.

Harry stays in his corner and starts twirling his straw around his drink again. Martha walks over after a few minutes and asks if he's done.

"Yeah," Harry says, "Thank you."

Martha takes his dishes and smiles at him, "What's your name, honey?"

"Harry."

"Nice meeting you, Harry," Martha nods and she takes his dishes. She places them on a conveyer belt that moves the dishes into the back of the restaurant.

Harry texts Anne and Gemma that he loves them, and leaves the restaurant, aiming to reach his apartment as fast as possible.

The police offers give him a look as he leaves but Martha tells them to let him pass, she says he's just a college student who came here to eat.

The night is dark, the streetlights and buildings around provide a soft glow by which Harry continues heading down his path.

He's nearly home when he sees Louis walking down the street, toward him. He's laughing with a taller man. When his eyes meet Harry, he stops laughing and shoots him a smile.

Harry smiles back and raises a hand to wave.

"Harry," Louis stops and lets Harry cross the two steps toward him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Uh, no, I live about a block away," Harry grins, "So in fact it is fancy to see you here."

The few people on the sidewalks step around them and continue on their way.

Louis giggles, "Cheeky one as always," He pulls Harry into a warm hug and releases him, "Wanna come over? We were going to study for the Biology test together," Louis says, pointing to his friend.

"I already studied, but I can help you if you like," Harry offers.

Louis shrugs, "Nah, wouldn't want to make you come all the way down to help."

Harry nods, "Fair enough, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Louis nods back, "Yeah, sure, stay safe."

Harry smiles and starts walking again. The warmth from Louis' embrace still enveloped around him, guiding him all the way home and into his bed. Despite the events of the day, he sleeps well, oddly enough, he feels secure.


	29. {Part II The Present}

Harry's Saturday passes by in a blur of homework and staring at his phone for a notification from Louis. Of course, no notification comes, not a call or even a text. Xale sends Harry a link to a funny video compilation, but other than that his Saturday is full of nothing but homework. 

Sunday however, brings about a surprise when Zayn texts Harry in a group chat with Xale, Liam, Niall and Louis Cookie.

"So are we all going today?" Zayn's message reads.

"Someone should pick up Harry," Niall texts.

"For what?" Harry sends out his own question.

"The beach," Louis responds, sending Harry into cardiac arrest as he clutches his phone at arms length.

"Oh, what beach? I can come by myself," Harry replies.

"You need a car, we're all going in Zayn's," Niall replies to him.

"Louis could pick up Harry," Xale's message pops up, "We don't have room in Zayn's car."

"Sorry, mate," Zayn says.

"I'll pick you up in an hour, Harry," Louis texts.

Harry stares at his phone grinning, "Thanks."

Harry then rushes to take a shower even though he'll be getting in the lake a few hours later. After all, Louis is coming to pick him up and he has to look decent, even if they are just friends. As Harry's getting ready, it occurs to him that he doesn't have swim trunks. Or really a beach towel. So, Harry texts that into the group as well and Louis replies telling him that he has extra. 

Harry stares at his phone and blinks. Like a new pair of extra or a used pair of extra swim trunks? Must be a new one, right?

Louis calls Harry when he's almost at his apartment building, and Harry rushes out into the elevator.

"I'm almost there, Harold, if you could come on down then I could just pick you up without needing to park."

"I'm on my way down," Harry says, breathless into the phone because he was just running around making sure he got what he needed. 

"I'm in a BMW," Louis goes on to describe the car but Harry doesn't register the letters and numbers as they mean nothing to him, "It's orange," Louis goes on.

"Orange," Harry repeats, "Got it."

It is orange, and it's a sports car, and Louis is sitting inside with his swim trunks on, a white t-shirt and sunglasses atop his small face.

"Lookin' quite snazzy, are we?" Harry teases the second he gets inside the luxury car.

"I'm always looking snazzy, Harold," Louis responds as he reaches into the back and throws a pair of yellow swim trunks at Harry, "They're new, they might be a bit small on you, though."

Harry holds out the swim trunks and smiles, "Thanks, they'll do." 

The drive goes fairly smoothly and Harry brings up the incident from earlier in the week. He tells Louis how there was a robbery at a restaurant he was in and that the people seemed unaffected.

"When was that? The night I ran into you?" Louis asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes," Harry nods, fully facing Louis as he talks to him, "It was scary, actually. I've never even seen a gun before."

"Harry, are you scared living alone?" Louis gently pushes.

"No."

Louis turns his gaze toward Harry, "You sure?"

Harry shrugs, looking back at the road, "I'm not alone, I'm in an apartment complex."

Louis hums, "Well if you ever feel scared if something like that ever happens again, feel free to ring me or Zayn, we'd love to have you over."

It's a small gesture but it warms Harry's heart when Louis says it. It's as if Louis might remember their childhood, remember that they were always looking out for each other. But he doesn't. Louis is simply being kind.

"I can teach you to shoot," Louis suggests.

"Wha- what?" Harry's mouth falls open, "No, Louis, I can't."

Louis reaches his hand out and pats Harry's knee, "Harry, guns are legal here, you might as well learn to use one in case you ever need it."

Harry's knee is on fire and he nods, "I just, I've never even seen a gun before coming here."

Louis lets out a huff of air.

Harry almost feels undignified till he looks back at Louis and catches him watching him with a soft gaze.

"I'm sorry," Louis says.

A car honks behind them and it hits Harry that they were stopped at a traffic light which has now turned green. Louis' attention goes back to the road. Just like that, the delicate moment is gone.

The beach turns out to be more crowded that Harry had expected. It's a little chilly but it's still a nice day to be out at the beach. After this the weather will only be getting colder as Chicago is guaranteed snow in it's winters.

Harry ends up changing in the car after Louis' stepped out because he doesn't want to go hunt down the changing rooms alone. The shorts are a bit tight and a bit small compared to what the rest of the lads are wearing, but Harry likes them.

"Are these mine now?" Harry asks as he approaches the group.

Everyone simultaneously turns around to look at him.

"If you're comfortable in them," Louis responds.

"I am," Harry says, looking up to catch Louis' eyes grazing up and down his body.

"Nice lad, nice lad. Nice little body," Louis comments, "That six pack has me wanting to keep my shirt on!"

Everyone laughs at Louis' joke, but Harry blushes deep red and runs his hand through his hair, "Funny," He chokes out.

"Who are you kidding," Zayn mentions, sounding bored, "We all know you're fit Louis, making my skinny ass feel insecure."

"Enough complimenting each other and shaming yourselves," Xale interjects, "We all look amazing, even Niall with his beer belly."

Niall's neck snaps to the side and he gasps, "I don't have a beer belly!" 

"So you keep telling yourself," Xale shrugs.

Niall doesn't have a beer belly, but the group still laughs. 

"Liam," Louis nods at him, "How was your ride here?"

"Leave my boyfriend alone," Zayn rolls his eyes, "Let's all just go."

Liam still gives Louis a puppy smile and a thumbs up behind Zayn's back.

Niall grins at the mention of Zayn's boyfriend and throws his arm around Xale's shoulders, "Did you get a haircut? It looks lovely."

Xale grins, "I did, thank you."

And just like that, their group partners up leaving Louis and Harry to trudge behind them.

Louis strips off his shirt while walking and Harry can't help it that he's one step behind Louis and able to stare at him without getting caught. Louis has defined muscles, and a small waist, he actually has curves unlike Harry who's mainly just tall and thin.

"Why would I ever make you feel insecure?" Harry almost whispers from behind Louis.

Louis hears it and turns around, face questioning yet seemingly fascinated by Harry, "I guess you don't too much. I suppose I just like the way you're built, young Harold."

Harry's confused because he doesn't understand the dynamic of their conversation anymore. It's hushed and private and doesn't seem completely platonic to him, not from the look Louis is giving him over his shoulder, "Thank you." Harry tries.

Louis' lips curl up again and Harry both loves and hates that mischievous smile of his. It's almost condescending, dominating and despite that, sexy. 

The beach day goes splendid. Louis casually maintains his distance from Harry and it's fine because Harry needs to find out about Louis' girlfriend before moving toward anything else other than friendship for now. 

Harry doesn't get into the water much, it's a lot colder than he expected. But it's freshwater and when a wave splashes water into his eyes, they don't burn and thats a pro. 

Mainly Harry is seated on his towel with the dull fall sun beating down on him, keeping him decently warm. Louis is a few feet away lying down, sunglasses on, so Harry doesn't know if he's dozed off or not. 

"Quit staring, Harold," Louis suddenly speaks.

Harry jolts and feels his face heating up again, "I was just trying to figure out if you're asleep or not," He honestly answers, "Guess not."

Louis takes his sunglasses off and sits up, tilting his head at Harry, "Would you like to go to Nando's with me?"

"There's Nando's here?" Harry asks, "It's pretty good, I'd love to go. I'll go call everybody," He goes to get up but Louis shakes his head.

"No, no. Leave them, I'll text Zayn." and he gets up to stretch, "It's not far from here, they can join us later if they want."

Harry looks back to the lake where their friends are lifting Zayn into the air and throwing him into an oncoming wave, "Okay." 

Louis grabs his towel and reaches over for Harry's as well, "Let's go then, Princess."

Harry's head snaps back to Louis and his heart picks up speed, "What?" 

Louis looks at Harry with wide eyes, cheeks tinting pink as he blushes, "I- I'm sorry it just slipped out."

Harry nods and shrugs, "That's alright."

Louis leads the way to his car and Harry follows behind him, his mind swirling with a million thoughts. All these years later, here he is with Louis, in Chicago, and Louis called him Princess without meaning too. Maybe Louis will remember, on his own, and Harry won't have to explain a single thing. Or maybe he's looking too much into it. Maybe Louis calls his girlfriend that and it just slipped out.


	30. {Part II The Present}

"I'll go change out of these shorts in the bathroom," Harry says to Louis the second they step inside the restaurant.

"I'll order for us, if you don't mind," Louis suggests.

Harry nods, "Sure, get your favorite, let's see if American Nando's is at par with my Nando's back home."

"Challenge accepted, British one," Louis nods, "Now go, people are staring at your shorts."

Harry gasps and looks around, but no one is looking.

"Look at you. Just go, Harry!" Louis snickers at him.

Harry rushes off to the mens bathroom.

It's weird, it's all very weird for Harry but at least he can breathe and talk around Louis now. Things are going well. All he has to do is befriend him, it's that simple. Plus, the friendship is coming along really well, so everything is fine. 

Harry's phone starts vibrating in his jeans pocket as he yanks the ripped skinnies up his thighs. The screen flashes Dave's name but Harry ignores it for once. He's out with Louis and he doesn't want to get caught up talking about work right now.

When Harry makes it outside, Louis is already sitting at a booth. Louis spots Harry immediately and waves him over. 

"I ordered a lot," Louis' eyes twinkle with excitement, "I might have ordered too much, but hey, we can pretend it's Thanksgiving!" 

Harry grins absurdly at him, "I wouldn't know much about Thanksgiving."

"Of course not," Louis sighs, "You'll find out eventually."

"So, you never really talked about your girlfriend," Harry dives right for what he wants to talk about, as he makes a show of trying the drink Louis ordered for him, "This is simply pepsi?"

Louis' expression changes to defensiveness, "Nothing much to talk about, Harry."

Harry pouts, trying to feign nonchalance, "You should have invited her today," He adds.

He shrugs, mirroring Harry's displayed emotions, "Nah, things aren't going well with her. I'd rather leave her be."

Harry nods, "Does she go to our university?"

"No."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Why?" Louis retorts.

Harry shrugs and smiles, "Just making conversation."

"She's taking a year off, she used to go to our university," Louis says.

"That's cool, is she traveling?" 

"I wouldn't know-" The food comes and Louis stops talking abruptly, "Thank you," He chimes sweetly at the waiter.

Louis did order a lot. He ordered a huge platter of wings, a whole chicken and a huge side of mash and chips. 

Harry glances from the food to Louis, "I hope you're packing what we don't finish," he laughs, "This is why we should have invited everyone."

"Of course we're packing it, I wouldn't waste this much food," Louis grins in response.

They dig in without really talking much, except to comment on the food. Louis lists off various restaurants at one point, asking if Harry's been there yet and Harry says no. Louis promises to take him and Harry would be absolutely delighted at Louis wanting to spend time with him, but there's an elephant in the room. Well, there's two elephants in the room and Harry wants to point out the one that's visible to both of them. Louis on the other hand is ignoring it and going about everything in a friendly manner which has Harry questioning himself.

Louis places the packed food in Harry's lap once he's got his belt on and laughs about not eating it all during the car ride. He's walking around the back to the drivers side when a thud jolts the car. Muffled voices make their way inside, followed by another thud which moves the whole car yet again.

Harry snaps the visor down and catches a glimpse of two figures with their hands on Louis and he snaps into action. He's unbuckled and out by Louis' side in seconds, the food still clutched in his right hand, "What's going on?" He breathes, eyebrows furrowed at the the two unknown men.

"Nothing, Harry," Louis sighs.

One of the men still has his hand on Louis' shoulder and Harry raises his eyebrows, "What are you touching him for, mate?"

"It's nothing, you heard him," The man smiles, squeezing Louis' shoulder.

Louis' face doesn't change, but he looks up at that man with narrowed eyes, his accent comes out thick and British when he speaks, "If you don't remove your hand, I'll have you fuckin' serial killed."

The man removes his hand and throws his head back in a laugh, "And who's going to do that?"

"The name's Tomlinson, ever heard it?" Louis tilts his head.

Recognition dawns across the strangers face, his smile disappears and a positively dominating one appears on Louis' face. The pair back up at that, glancing between Louis and Harry warily.

"That's what I thought," Louis slowly drawls, "Harry, come on," Louis snaps his head to Harry and nods toward the car, "Let's go."

Harry nods back, glancing over his shoulder at the terrified expressions on the strangers faces as he slides into the passenger seat and slams the door shut. 

Louis reverses jerkily and the men rush backward, tripping and running off as Louis starts laughing, loud and amused, "Scared 'em off, young Harold!"

"Who was that?" Harry asks, curious eyes studying Louis' face.

"Don't know," Louis replies, lips pressed together, "They must have liked my car."

Louis says it as a half hearted joke but Harry gets it, "Does that happen often then? People just come at you because you're clearly rich?"

"Not too often, Harry, but it happens."

"You should have protection."

"I do, Harry."

"Where?"

"Check under your seat."

So, Harry leans forward and reaches his hand below his seat, patting around till his fingers wrap around cool metal and he drags the compact black pistol out from it's hiding spot. His mouth falls open and he nearly drops it as he's held it with two fingers anyway.

"It's not going to go off like that," Louis grins at Harry's expression.

Harry glances from the gun to Louis, green eyes wide and panicked. He gently leans over and places it back where he found it, then rubs his hand clean on his jeans.

Louis laughs louder, "We'll definitely have to teach you, Harry. Everyone here knows how to shoot, even Liam, as much as he might not look like it."

"What about your girlfriend?" Harry chokes out, despite being shocked at the fact that he just held a gun, the question still makes it way out.

Louis' icy blue eyes work their way to Harry once more and he silently looks away.

Harry studies Louis' features in silence, knowing he won't look back. Neither of them speaks. Harry drinks him in, eyes grazing over the side profile of Louis' face, cheeks and chin littered with light stubble, lips thin, red, eyes the coldest sparkling blue that no ocean could ever compare to. He's beautiful, and Harry knows he's a goner for everything behind that face, and that face.


	31. {Part II The Present}

It's Xale who takes Harry shooting, promptly the next day. The shooting itself goes well though Harry hasn't got any sense of hand-eye coordination when it comes to guns. It also doesn't help that Xale berates him about Louis multiple times throughout the course of their day. Harry replies scarcely, not giving away anything because there is not much to give away in the first place.

"So, let me recall," Xale recites once they're on the transit again, "Louis just asked you to lunch, and you left us all and went with him?"

Harry sighs and looks out the window, hand holding him steady. At least he's standing in front of her, so he doesn't have to deal with her imploring eyes as of now.

Xale leans toward him, "So, if I had asked you to go with just me, you would have said yes?"

"Yes," Harry lies.

He startles when soft hair tickles his neck and a weight rests on his shoulder.

"You are a headache," Xale whines, forehead pressed against Harry's shoulder blade, "And a liar, but I still like you," She sighs. "So, I will invite you to the masquerade ball."

"What?" Harry swivels his neck to try and look at her now, "The what?"

"The masquerade ball at Louis' hotel. Very exclusive crowd, and I'm inviting you, to go in, using Zayn's name," Her brown eyes rake across his face once, "He told me everything about it and is not attending."

Harry shakes his head, "No, I can't go in using Zayn's name."

"Good idea," Xale nods in response and then pulls out her phone.

Harry looks at her in utter confusion as she taps away at the smartphone.

"What are you doing?" Harry attempts to twist around in the crowded space.

"Just telling Louis to get your name on the guest list," Xale answers, shooting Harry a mischievous smile, "You're a model, it'll be good to be seen in the high crowd of Chicago."

"Since when do you have Louis' number?" Harry asks, eyes narrowed, "And how is one seen during a masquerade ball? That makes no sense because no one can see your face."

"I don't have Louis' number," Xale shrugs, "I'm just choosing to tell Zayn, and he will pass on the information to Louis."

"No, it's fine I'll go in with Zayn's name."

"Too late."

"Holy shit."

"Shut up."

The ball it turns out, is the same night. Harry considers telling his manager but decides he'd rather not make it a work related trip and besides his manager can't get in. A voice in the back of Harry's mind says he could easily use Zayn's name and get his manager in. But, he chooses to keep it to himself.

Harry's considering wearing the same Gucci suit he wore to the previous party but just as he pulls it out, there's a knock on his door. Upon opening, he sees a man holding a garment bag that has the name "Gucci" scrawled across it.

"Delivery for Mr. Harry Styles," The man speaks in a bored, bland voice.

"Oh, that's me," Harry says, taking the bag.

The man nods, heading toward the elevators.

Who sent him a Gucci suit?

Harry quickly lies the bag down on his couch and unzips it. Inside is a green and pink sparkly, floral suit with a black shirt. He gasps, pulling the pants and coat out. The shirt is silky and soft, better than any shirt Harry has ever owned. Well, it's Gucci, of course it is. But even the suit itself, does not feel rough, it's still soft and supple, feels thick and rich between Harry's fingers.

A mask and note at the bottom of the bag catch Harry's eye and he sets the suit down to reach for them. The mask is simple, black, it'll cover the top half of his face. He still has the black dress suits from the last party, they'll match.

The note is the most interesting thing to Harry. He snatches it up and flips it over. It's not addressed to anyone, but the envelope is a deep black, with flowers imprinted all over it. Harry gently pries it open. The soft smell of cologne floats out when he does, it get's stronger when he pulls the letter out. 

Harry quickly unfolds the note in anticipation.

"You like flowers. This isn't out for another year, got it special. Wear it tonight." The note reads.

That's all it says. The bottom is signed with "- LT". 

Harry shivers and breaks out into a huge grin. He brings the note up and sniffs along the paper. God, Louis really sprayed his cologne on this letter and sent it to him. Louis really bought him a Gucci suit for the ball. A suit that doesn't even come out for a year.

It's probably the wrong size. It won't fit. And then Harry won't feel like he's going to throw up. That's is. He should wear it, right now.

But, when Harry tries the suit on. It turns out Louis does somehow know his size. The suit fits perfectly. When Harry spins around in the mirror he finds that it fits his bum all too well, and is not loose anywhere like the suit his manager had gotten him.

How does Louis know his size?

This suit delivery isn't subtle, but it's highly effective. 

Harry's swooning so hard he's actually giddy with excitement. He removes the suit and jumps into the shower again. He steps out and shaves again, tilting his face left and right making sure he's looking perfect. Then he grabs a handful of curling mousse and tousles it through his damp hair, letting it dry up in fluffy spirals.

If Louis' sent Harry a suit, Harry's going to look his absolute best in it.

He even puts on concealer and dabs a bit of bb cream across his face to smooth it out. It's not like Harry has lipstick, but he has pink and red tinted chapstick. And well, it's pretty tinted. He smears the pink across his lips and studies his slightly enhanced facial features in the mirror. He looks good. He knows he looks good.

Harry laughs to himself as he sprays his entire body with his Burberry cologne. He's really getting dressed up for Louis, in clothes that Louis sent him. Expensive clothes that Louis sent him. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He lets out a squeal instead and rushes to put the suit back on.

His doorbell rings again when Harry's taking mirror selfies to send Anne and Gemma a picture of the suit. He quickly sends it with the caption, "It's Gucci, Louis got it for me to wear to a ball. It's nice, right? Considerate of him."

Surprisingly he gets an immediate response from Gemma, separate from the family group chat, "Damn, is Louis going to take it off too?"

Harry feels his face burn as he pockets his phone and answers the door. 

"Mr. Harry Styles?" The same man who delivered the suit is standing outside, "Mr. Louis Tomlinson has sent me to drive you to the Tomlinson Charity Ball."

Harry's mouth falls opens and he nods, "Alright, thank you. I'll be right down." 

He closes the door and goes back into the apartment, quickly retrieving his keys and wallet. He slides his phone out of his pocket and texts Gemma back, "You should be sleeping."

"Wow, he is then?"

"Gems. No."

"Sure." Comes her response and Harry laughs from embarrassment. 

That is not going to happen.

Nope.

Not that he would mind.

Louis Tomlinson is going to be the death of him.


	32. {Part II The Present}

Harry steps out in front of the Tomlinson hotel. A chilly breeze sweeps across his neck as he throws his head forward to tie the lace strings of the mask underneath his hair. This way he won't mar his soft curls, which he actually put extra effort into today. 

Lightning flashes above the city, thunder booming in the distance, barely audible between the city din. 

A drop of rain lands on the back of Harry's neck, sliding it's way into the collar of his shirt.

Harry throws his hair back and hastily strides toward the doors of the building.

The inside of the ball room is dimly lit. A live orchestra plays in one corner and a large fountain sits in the middle, various other decorations litter the large area. The fountain itself is spewing red liquid, Harry thinks for a second that it might just be wine. Through the sparse crowds of people already present, Harry spots a bar and heads straight toward it.

"Can I have a ginger grapefruit sparkler," Harry asks the bartender, as he leans against the counter. 

He's not quite sure what he's asking for but it's what Anne always has and well, maybe he's trying to seem a bit sophisticated. 

The drink itself tastes like exactly what it's called, ginger and grapefruit. Harry drinks 3 before his brain catches up and asks him why he's drinking. He's not exactly feeling drunk as of yet but he's getting there. 

Harry turns around and takes in the party. The place is really filling out, the bar is too. Harry's brain reminds him that Louis will be showing up and he knows why he was drinking.

So, Harry being himself turns to the bartender and grins, big and wide, "Can I get two shots of vodka really quick? I have to take a wee and think you'll be too busy by the time I get back."

The bartender smiles at him, "Of course, sir."

For some reason, Harry's drunk brain leads him to think that he'll bump into Louis while leaving the bathroom again. After doing washing his hands, he walks to the door, expecting it. Nothing happens. Harry huffs and walks back to the sink and tries again. Nothing happens. He repeats it again and this time the door swings open and Harry exaggerates slipping and throws himself at Louis.

Except, a millisecond after he does so, he realizes the man has a gray beard and is definitely not Louis. So, he apologizes and straightens himself up before exiting. 

Well, at least the man didn't see his face. Thank the universe for Harry being masked, because he's making a complete and utter fool of himself tonight.

Harry's standing at the edge of the crowd, watching people talk and some even dance to the music being played. Slow and rhythmic as they sway together. He's been here for over an hour and he's sure he smells more like ginger than his cologne at this point. Louis is still nowhere to be seen.

His foots taps in impatience as he pulls out his phone and sends a text to Louis, "Are you at the ball?" 

He doesn't get an answer. Of course he doesn't. Louis might not even be here. Harry's eyes scan the masked crowd one more time before he concludes that Louis is not here.

Right when Harry begins to relax and considers leaving his post to go talk to people, a hand slides across Harrys back and settles on his waist. The warmth of it seeps through to his bones, and he knows without looking.

"Wore the suit I sent," Louis' voice slowly drawls out the observation as he steps next to Harry.

Harry cocks his head to the side and takes in the shorter figure. Louis is dressed in all black, his suit embroidered with black flowers like the envelope. In fact he smells of the same perfume he sprayed in the envelope. His mask is the same plain black that Harry's is, an expensive plain black. And unlike Harry's naturally voluminous hair, Louis' looks purposefully designed into a fluffy windswept style. 

"You got me something that sticks out yet you wore black?" Harry giggles, the alcohol telling him the situation is funny.

Louis turns and smirks at him, "Ah, my sweet cherub, I did wear all black. You were only given this lovely garden of a suit because I recall the last time I saw you, it was in floral. So, I thought to myself, the man deserves a colorful floral suit as well."

"Good thinking," Harry nods at him, "It's what I've always wanted. Especially a sparkly suit."

"Of course, young Harold, I knew the sparkles were the way to go. Nothing screams model more than sparkles."

Harry's laugh gets caught in his throat when Louis slides his hand lower to his hip. His blue eyes remain neutral as he studies Harry's face. Perhaps Harry is just always overthinking with Louis.

The smile stays on Louis' face as he tilts his head to the side, "Have I kept you waiting?"

Harry shakes his head.

Louis takes a sip from the glass he's holding and nods, "Do you want me to show you off then? Introduce you to people, show them the lovely face behind the mask and mention that you're a model?"

Harry shakes his head again, "No, that's not why I came."

"Why did you come then?" Louis asks, hand sliding to Harry's lower back.

A shaky breath leaves Harry's mouth as butterflies erupting wildly in his stomach, "Uh," He narrows his eyes in concentration, "Oh, they forced my name on the list, so I figured I should come after making you go through all that effort."

Louis laughs, "Thank you, Harry. Not to keep you waiting, but I've got a few people to meet. You can come with or wait right here. We can head out after this?"

Harry nods, "I'll be at the bar," He answers, stepping back and away from Louis' touch.

Louis smiles, eyes shadowed by the mask as he turns away. 

Harry rushes off in a flurry, hair scattering across his face as he practically runs toward the bar.

"Hi," he greets the bartender, "I'm going to need three shots, really fast."

He downs the alcohol fast. Theres a slight burn in his throat that he swallows away as he stands there, waiting for the effects to settle in. He needs to calm down. 

But the thing is, it's Louis that needs to calm down. He's got Harry confused and cornered and Harry doesn't know the first thing about who Louis is at this point. Harry wants a friendship, he really does want to know about him. 

Harry waits there for a while, back to the crowd, simply staring at the shot glass in his hand. It might look to an outsider as though he were contemplating something, something important. But really, his mind was stuck on Louis. Just Louis.

"Beautiful hair," Louis' voice whispers in Harry's ear, "Have I ever told you that?"

Harry jolts out from his zone and whips his head around, "Thank you. I like yours too."

Louis waves his hand like he doesn't believe him, "Want to leave?"

"Where?" Harry asks, knowing full well he'll follow Louis anywhere.

"We can go to me and Zayn's apartment," Louis suggests, "I have to stop by a friends place really quick, but after that, straight to Zayn's."

Harry nods, "I like Zayn."

Louis grins, "I don't know if he'll be there, don't get your hopes up."

Louis takes Harry's arm as he drags him toward an opposite set of doors. His hand curls around Harry's wrist and Harry's dumbly staring at the point of contact as he lets Louis lead him out.

As soon as the door opens, a whirlwind of wind and rain envelopes them. Someone opens the door to a limo and Louis pushes Harry in before him.

Harry pouts as he runs his hands through his hair, "I even put product in," He says aloud. Now his hair is all ruined.

"What?" Louis asks, bemused as he looks up at Harry.

Harry shrugs in response. He didn't say anything. Or did he say that out loud?

"You said you even put product in?" Louis grins.

Harry's eyes widen, "Oh, I said that then?"

Louis laughs, "A little gone are you, Harry?"

Harry nods as presses his knees together and places his hands in his lap, "Maybe. I'm not sure."

Louis lets out another tinkling laugh, "How precious, young Harold. You're quite the cheeky one, aren't you?"

Harry shrugs again as his eyes move around the inside of the limo. They land on a joint, "You smoke?" He asks, gently picking it up between two fingers.

"Sometimes, yes," Louis replies.

Now, Harry knows one thing about Louis he didn't know before.

"You're an athlete," Harry says in a matter-of-fact tone, "You shouldn't."

"Sometimes, Harry," Louis repeats as he moves to sit next to him and takes the joint from his hand, "Do you smoke?"

Harry's curls swish across his face as he sHakes his head, "Smoking isn't good for your lungs."

"Yet you drink, which isn't good for your liver," Louis counters as a protrudes a lighter and sets the small joint ablaze.

Harry juts his lips out in an exaggerated pout, "Yes, but smoking is more bad."

Louis laughs and takes a puff before holding the joint over to Harry.

Harry raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. 

Louis' smile turns sly again as he takes another long drag, "Bad is bad Harry, you can't weigh out what you think is worse."

"Yes you can," Harry retorts.

And as he has kept doing, Louis lets out another chuckle.

Harry almost feels undignified, almost as though Louis is mocking him. But then Louis speaks again and it settles Harry's thoughts into a soft lull.

"You're something, Harry. You're an interesting lad, aren't you?"

"That doesn't smell good," Harry replies.

Louis is amused it seems. But he doesn't stop smoking. 

The rain comes down hard on the limo as the driver zooms through the city. It thrums heavily and streaks down the windows like little streams of water, or tear drops.

They come to a stop too soon. The rain goes to a soft pitter patter on top of the still vehicle.

"I'll be right back," Louis says, gently placing his hand on Harry's knee in a soothing gesture.

Harry's hand automatically goes to run over the spot that Louis touched him. 

Cool air enters the limo as the door slams shut. Louis strides off toward a dark building and Harry squints. It doesn't look like a friends place, if he remembers clearly, that's what Louis had stated. 

He's too drunk to think clearly and his mind his buzzing with second hand contact to the smoke. So, Harry lies down on the seat and curls into himself.

The rain continues a steady rhythm on the roof of the car. Harry wonders if the heavens cry.


	33. {Part II The Present}

It feels like only a moment has passed when Harry feels a wet hand stroke his cheek. He startles upright, bewildered by his surroundings until his eyes land on Louis.

"Come on," Louis tells him. He holds an umbrella, despite being soaking wet already.

Harry sit's there confused and folds his hands like earlier, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he attempts to get his bearings.

Louis smiles at him, "Let's get into my car, Harry, the limo is my parents' and my time is up with it for tonight."

"Sorry?" Harry's voice is rougher than usual due to sleep. He looks around once more before he edges toward Louis, "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Louis smiles, he steps back into the rain and stretches his arm up to hold the umbrella over Harry.

Harry frowns, "What are you doing?"

Louis grins wider, "Well you're the only one dry here, might as well protect you from the rain since it clearly got me."

Harry steps out under the umbrella and Louis places his hand on Harry's back, urging him toward his own car. They hurry toward it and Louis makes sure to keep Harry as dry as possible even though the rain does still soak Harry's pants through.

"Thank you," Harry says, once they're both in the car. He still feels a little drunk, but not so much that he can't comprehend that Louis held an umbrella only for Harry. Despite being wealthy, Louis doesn't seem to have let the privilege get to his head. He's so sweet and kind and Harry likes that very much.

"You're so docile when you drink Harry," Louis laughs as he enters the drivers side, "Always following along, apologizing too much, thanking too much," His eyes shift to Harry as he blasts the heat on full, "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Harry asks, genuinely concerned. 

Louis reaches into Harry's laps and grabs one of his hands, "Stop folding your hands together like that. I've never seen you do it before tonight, it just looks so submissive, like so gentle and soft."

Harry's brain hones in on the word as Louis lets go of his hand and continues to talk.

"In fact you're like that a lot, you know? You seem almost unsure of yourself, like you would apologize for existing if someone told you to."

"I'm not submissive," Harry shakes his head.

"You act like it. You act so soft," Louis continues, as he pulls out into the dark streets of the city's worn edges, "I don't know how else to describe it. You're just soft, Harry."

Harry's mind is elsewhere as he continues his bumbling, "It sounds hot, but I don't think I'm submissive. I think I'd like to take turns."

"Ha-" Louis stops mid-sentence and his mouth falls open as he glances over at Harry, "What?"

"I think I'd like to share that," Harry numbly continues., eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the window, eyes following the raindrops, "Wouldn't you?"

"I mean- I guess, but that's not what I was trying to say-"

"That's good," Harry nods, "See, you feel the same way."

"Harry!" Louis shouts.

Harry whips his head around and jerks away from Louis, "What?"

"I'm not talking about that!" Louis eyes are wide and his cheeks red as he blinks at Harry.

"Talking about what?" Harry asks, still cowering toward the door.

Louis raises his eyebrows and turns his eyes back to the road, "Did you not just hear yourself?"

It takes a Harry a minute, then his brains' wires finally connect to what he said and he feels his face heat up, "Nooo," Harry moans, covering his face, maintaining his cowering position "Help me!"

One glance at Harry and Louis bursts out laughing, "I think I'd like to share that!" He mocks Harry in a slow, deep voice."

"Help!" Harry rolls his window down, giggling now, "Help me!"

Louis grabs a hold of Harry's collar and yanks him away from the window, "Hush, you can't scream help, someone's gonna call the cops!"

"Help!" Harry shouts, laughing and reaching his hand into the rain, "Help i'm being kidnapped!"

Louis' eyes widen at his yells but he can't help the laughter that bubbles up at the absurdity, "Harry! You really can't!" He let's go of Harry and starts rolling the window up from his side.

Harry yanks his hand inside from the rain, "Ouch," He pouts.

"The window did not close on your hand," Louis rolls his eyes.

"My throat," Harry pouts further and pulls the collar away from his neck.

"Ah," Louis reaches out puts his hands on Harry's shoulder, "Sorry about that."

It's a comforting gesture more than anything but Harry smiles at the contact, "It's okay," he smiles, folding his hands in his lap again.

Louis glances over and takes one of Harry's hands, placing it on the armrest, "Stay," he says.

Harry looks at his hand, "Okay."

"Thank God."

"Thank heavens."

"Thank Jesus."

"Thank Yeshua."

"Who?"

"I think that's Jesus in Hebrew," Harry shrugs.

"Are you Jewish?"

"I don't know. I don't claim to be anything."

"Do you believe in God?"

Harry turn to Louis and smiles, "I believe in the powers that created this universe."

"Okay, so not in a man who controls everything?"

"Never."

Louis smiles, "Me neither?"

"But do you believe in God?" Harry questions.

"I guess I believe in whatever powers started the universe," Louis replies, "Big bang and what not."

Harry nods, "But those powers are God."

"You just said you don't believe in God!"

The street lights disappear and Harry notices they've entered an underground parking lot.

"I said I don't believe in a man who runs the universe. I believe in the powers which created it and formed the rules of it. Those powers are God," Harry explains, "Do you get it?"

Louis frowns in the dim light, "I suppose."

Harry studies Louis' face, "People just call it God and believe it is something in human form."

"Okay," Louis nods, "Now is this a drunk philosophy or actually your philosophy."

"Actually," Harry replies, "It's what I believe."

"That's beautiful, Harry. We should discuss this further when you are sober. Your mind is a very interesting place."

When they reach Louis and Zayn's apartment, the flat is quiet and dark. It's late, and Zayn must be asleep by now. Louis heads straight to the kitchen, mumbling something about being hungry and Harry follows behind.

"Do you want something?" Louis asks.

"Yeah," Harry nods, "I want food." 

Louis turns around and makes a "well duh" expression at him.

Harry giggles as he leans against the counter, "I want a banana."

"I don't have bananas," Louis sighs, turning back around, "I have strawberries."

"No."

"Picky, are we?"

"Very," Harry giggles again.

Louis can't help but grin to himself as he rummages through the fridge.

"Wanna order in?" He asks, finally giving up on the scare food in the fridge.

Harry shrugs, "We did that last time. Don't you cook?"

"No."

"Sad."

"Do you want to eat?"

Harry shakes his head, "Can I change?"

Louis narrows his eyes for a second before realization hits him, "I should too! We're sopping wet, fuck, I forgot."

Harry nods at him, smiling amusedly, "Yes, I see how one can just forget that they're a second away from getting hypothermia." 

They're both heading down the hallway, when Zayn's door swings open. He freezes when he sees them both together, "This is... a surprise."

"Go to sleep, Zayn," Louis groans.

"Can I change into anything I want?" Harry asks as he inches past Zayn, offering him a huge smile and pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, close the door and open it when you're done."

Harry nods and practically slams the door behind him. He turns the light on and opens Louis' closet and- there are so many things!

His feet pad into the walk in space and he gasps. Even Louis' sweatshirts and hoodies are from high fashion brands. Harry can't even imagine the amount of wealth Louis' family must have. It's crazy to think about. Back in England, Louis' family was clearly well off, but nothing compared to the level they're on now.

Harry changes into a black hoodie and grey sweats. The sweats barely skim his ankles, but the hoodie seems to fit fine, with the exception of the sleeves being a bit short. He's about to look at himself in the mirror when he hears a quite shout from the hallway followed by a scuffling noise. Harry rushes to the door and pulls it open, sticking his head out, "Did someone fall?"

Zayn turns around and gives harry a sympathetic smile, "No, Harry."

Louis face is forced into something which Harry guesses is supposed to resemble a smile.

"You staying over?" Zayn asks.

Harry shakes his head, "My pants were wet from the rain."

"Ah," Zayn nods, eye shifting to Louis then back to Harry, "Well I'm going back to sleep. Have fun."

"Thanks," Harry grins, "You could hang out with us, you know?"

Zayn shakes his head with a smile and turns to Louis.

"Are we clear then?"Zayn asks.

Louis' response is hushed, "There's nothing to be clear about."

"He's my friend," Zayn lowers his voice.

"Who are you talking about?"Harry asks, stepping into the hallway now. He stands there pigeon toed with one hand on the door frame.

"You don't know them," Zayn answers smoothly, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," Harry replies, watching Zayn retreat back into his room.

As soon as the lock clicks, Louis grins and takes in Harry's appearance, "Look at you, my clothes don't even fit right."

Harry smiles back, "You have two of these," He points to the black Gucci sweatshirt, "I thought we could match!" 

Louis exaggerates rolling his eyes but follows Harry into his room anyway. 

Harry rushes into the closet and pulls out the matching hoodie, "This one!"

"I'll wear it," Louis replies, taking the hoodie from Harry's hands. 

"I'm waiting," Harry grins, as he rushes outside and closes the closet door to give Louis privacy. 

Harry wants to explore Louis' room, he truly does. There's loads of books and records and a vintage record player. There's a piano and so many things jammed into the space. The room itself is quite big, so everything looks like it belongs there. All of Louis' littlest belongings to his biggest, seem to belong there. 

But, Harry's tired, so he goes to crawl into Louis' queen sized bed as he waits. He must doze off, because the next thing he hears is the closet door opening. Louis says his name, but he's too gone to reply. It's the last thing he hears before sleep overtakes him. Perhaps even Harry, belongs there.


	34. {Part II The Present}

Harry awakens in the middle of the night to a hushed voice, talking intently on a call.

"Not tonight. I can't," the voice pauses, "Something came up. I can't," another pause, "You don't need to know."

Somewhere between the time it takes the person to end the call, and get to the edge of the bed, Harry's mind registers the voice as belonging to Louis.

The far side of the bed dips, and Harry tries to speak in his sleep ridden state, "Luhhh-"

"Harry?" Louis asks.

"Mmm," Harry gets out.

***

Louis hand nestles into Harry's curls as he softly runs his hands through in a comforting gesture, "Are you having a nightmare?"

Harry is silent again, pulled back into sleep.

Louis lets his head rest in Harry's curls a bit longer. There's something about the boy that puzzles Louis. Something about the boy makes Louis' chest feel warm, like there's a fire somewhere that he can't control. 

A memory flashes in the back of his head, "You're so silly, this is serious," spoken in a soft, high-pitched boy's voice. 

He yanks his hand away and stares at Harry in confusion as the memory of his first kiss skips around his head. It's one of the few he still has, he has memories of feelings or certain events, but with no full recollection, and no faces to apply to the people from his past. 

Louis retreats to the opposite side of the bed and watches Harry sleep. He watches until he too, drifts off.

***

Harry awakens to a tickling sensation under his chin. His eyes remain closed as he grunts and shoves the heavy blanket off him.

"Fuck off!" The blanket mumbles, curling into Harry's side aggressively.

"The fuck?" Harry's eyes pop open and he sits upright.

The blanket it turns out, is actually Louis, who mimics Harry and pushes himself to the far edge of the bed.

They both sit there, looking at each other for a minute. Louis' cheeks are red again, soft hair flattened against one side of his head.

Harry's the one who cracks a smile first, "I thought you were a blanket."

Louis scrunches his nose as he holds back a grin, "Did you?"

"A fuckin' heavy blanket," Harry nods.

That's all it takes for them both to burst into giggles. But Louis checks his phone too soon and he's up and out of the bed instantly. 

"We've missed class," He announces, "Get your ass up and let's make it to our second classes on time, Harry."

"Can't we just miss them too?" Harry asks, voice deep and sleep ridden, "We can order takeout."

Louis snorts, "I'm trying to get a degree, Harold."

Harry sits there grinning as Louis rushes into the bathroom which Harry hadn't noticed before. His heart is dancing, wild flowers bloom all around him in the room. The grow under him and lift him toward the ceiling which gives away and sunlight pours through.

The thing is, Louis is soft and warm and real. Harry's getting close to him, faster than he thought he would. He's not sure what he's getting himself into, but the thought that Louis was holding him as they slept, that thought, it warms his heart. Harry could live like this forever, wake up like this forever.

"Do you not pee in the morning?" Louis shouts, running out of the bathroom, disrupting Harry's thoughts, "Get up!"

Forever, will have to wait. So far, Louis is Harry's friend, and Harry needs to calm down.

Harry makes it to his photography class on time and slips into his seat quietly. He can feel the scrutiny from his friends before they even arrive in the room. So, he opens his phone and focuses on texting as they take the seats next to him.

"So..." Is Gemma's last text.

"Nothing," Harry types back.

"So," Xale sing songs.

"Thought you weren't staying over?" Zayn questions.

"What?" Niall mumbles.

Harry shrugs, "I fell asleep, so I guess Louis didn't wake me," He looks up and flits his gaze across the three who are eyeing him.

"He's a nice man," Niall nods, turning his attention to his camera, "I wanted to share some shots with you, get your opinion," he continues, unaware of anything outside of himself.

Harry can feel Xale and Zayn still watching him, but he turns his full attention to Niall, "Yeah?"

"I took these when I was high as shit, so I can't tell if they're actually good or if my high self is convincing me that they're good," Niall thrusts the camera into Harry's face and grins, "She's beautiful of course, I just want to know about the composition."

Harry let's out a short laugh as he clicks through the pictures. They're all of Xale in a meadow of some sorts. It's just her from so many different angles, "They're good," Harry replies, "I think if you want critique, you should ask the teacher, but these are nic-" The last picture is a selfie and Harry snaps his head to Niall, "You're together now?"

Niall's eyes widen in realization as he reaches for the camera and misses, "No!" 

"You're kissing!" Harry spins to Zayn, "They're kissing!"

Xale's mouth drops open as she snatches the camera out of Harry's hand before Zayn can look at it, "You said you deleted all of them!"

"I did!" Niall defends himself, rushing up to her and grabbing his camera back, "I must have missed one!" His thumb presses the wrong button and the picture changes to a different one of Xale and him kissing.

Xale points at the camera in disbelief, "Seriously?" 

"Are you finally together or not then?" Zayn questions, craning his neck to get a look at the camera, "Because, we're all sick and tired of you not being together."

"We're friends!" Xale yells.

The entire class falls quiet and everyone's eyes are on them.

"We just kissed, I can explain. We were high!" Xale continues, no regard for who might be listening, "It happens."

Niall's eyes betray him as he nods next to her, feigning nonchalance. 

"Keep lying to yourself," Someone from the class mumbles. 

Harry looks around nervously, "Seriously? That's all you have to say on that?"

Xale shrugs and sits back down. 

"Everyone knows you both like each other," Zayn sighs, "Fuck, get married, have kids, fucking live together till you're old then write a fucking book about it so we can all die in peace."

Xale huffs, "Shut up, Zayn."

"Nah," Zayn replies, "Stop acting like you haven't been talking to me about how cute Niall is since the day you saw him."

"Wait what?" Niall questions.

"Shut up Niall, you're no better," Zayn quietly and calmly continues unraveling the truth before both of them, "You asked me if she's my sister a week after I met you."

"Stop," Niall whispers.

"I said no and you fist pumped," Zayn snorts, "This idiot fit pumped," Zayn laughs, turning to Harry, "Can you believe that?"

Xale turns and scowls at Zayn.

"I can't do it. I hate this fucking energy. I'm leaving," Zayn gets up and snatches his bag, "I'm going to smoke weed and meditate in my room. Bye."

Niall takes his backpack and quietly exists the room as well, practically running away.

"Don't worry," Xale says, not meeting Harry's eyes, "I'll fix this."

Harry stares at her, "How?"

"I'll be honest," Her voice cracks and she grabs her belongings as well, "I'll text you later, don't worry about it Harry." 

Harry watches her leave, knowing that the entire class is looking at only him now. He texts under the table and pretends he can't see them.

"Definitely should have skipped this class," He sends to Louis.

Louis doesn't reply.

Harry doesn't get a reply from Louis till later that day, "Did you have a bad day?'

"No, but everyone else did," Harry hits send as he sits at his dinner table, drinking soup, still in Louis' hoodie though he's changed into his own ripped jeans by now.

"Class tomorrow?"

"No."

"Movie night with everyone?"

"Is this Louis or Zayn?"

"Haha. Come on, Harry."

Harry smiles at his phone, "Coming."

"Hot," Louis replies.

"What?"

"It was a joke."

Harry chokes on his soup as the meaning registers and he sends the middle finger emoji. Louis sends five back.

Movie night it turns out, is a complete and utter failure. No one shows up. In fact, Xale and Niall aren't even answering their phones. Zayn has loud music blasting in his room and refuses to open the door, or give any signs of being alive in there.

Louis scowls at Harry, sighing as they stand defeated outside Zayn's door, "I really tried here Harry. I fucking love Zayn and if he's having trouble with his friends, I care, you know?"

"I know, Lou."

Louis furrows his brows further at the nickname.

"If he's not responding, that's not your fault. He just needs some time alone," Harry shrugs, "It's just how he is then, innit?"

Louis rolls his eyes and saunters away into his bedroom.

Harry's uncertain when he watches him go, but follows behind anyway. He waits outside Louis' room, leaned against the doorframe and watches him, waiting to be invited in. 

However, Louis isn't paying attention as he heads straight for the bathroom.

Harry lets his eyes wander around the room, unsure of what to do or say. His eyes skim over something important and he freezes. 

Nestled in the top shelf of a bookcase is Mr. Yellow, the banana plushie Harry gave to Louis on their last day together.


	35. {Part II The Present}

Harry can't help it as he moves uninvited through Louis' room and stands before the bookcase. His fingers trace across the withered toy and he smiles, pulling it down from the shelf. It's Mr. Yellow. Louis really did keep the toy and fuck Louis still remembers who it's from as he indicated during their first meeting. If only there were a way to help Louis make the connection to Harry.

"Do you still want to stay?" Louis asks, exiting the bathroom.

Harry almost drops his old banana plushie and spins around with it still in his hands. He nods.

Louis eyes flicker between Harry and the toy, a flash of possessiveness passes through his face but it disappears immediately, "I know, it's weird," he shakes his head, "Just put it back, Harry."

"Sorry," Harry stuffs Mr. Yellow back into the little space between the books and follows Louis into his closet without really thinking.

Louis doesn't seem bothered as he casually strips his hoodie off right in front of Harry, reaching for a tighter fitted sweatshirt. 

It's not that he can't help it, he truly could look away, but Harry keeps staring, mesmerized by the tattoos inked across Louis' arms and chest.

"I have to go pick something up, you can come with me or wait," Louis suggests, "Or I can drop you off if you want," He stops midway, arms in the sleeves of the black sweatshirt he's picked up, holding it casually in front of himself as he looks up, "Like what you see, Harry?"

Harry feels his face heat up as he raises his eyes in shame to meet Louis' bright blue gaze, glinting at him mischievously, "Th- you have tattoos- sorry," Harry mumbles, looking to his shoes instead.

"Ah, most of them are stupid," Louis responds, sounding unaffected. He slides his clothes on and walks to Harry, "What is it then? Are you coming with me?"

"Yeah," Harry nods.

Louis leads Harry to a very plain, average looking black Honda CRV in the parking garage. The model seems at least 10 years old and Harry stares at in confusion.

"Louis, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure this isn't your car."

The car doors click open and Louis laughs, heading toward the driver side, "It's my work car, Harold."

"Work car?" Harry questions, "What's your work."

"Just a delivery driver, my parents are disappointed," Louis laughs, "Get on in then."

The drive is long and Louis plays music through most of it. Harry simply gazes out the window at the dark buildings whizzing past. The streets turn smaller and the buildings shorter. The car itself is comfortable, but not much compared to Louis' other car. A question eats away at the back of Harry's mind but he brushes it off.

They end up in an older part of town that Harry doesn't recognize. The windows are dark, the buildings decaying and old. Harry glances toward Louis face and opens his mouth to ask where exactly they're going. Right when he's about to, Louis slows down and Harry snaps his mouth shut.

Louis pulls up to a warehouse of sorts, the parking lot is almost empty. He pulls the car up to the side of the building, hiding it in the shadows, "Harry, wait here. I'll be right back. Please just sit in here, and put your hood up, alright?"

Harry furrows his brows and nods, grappling for the right words, "What are you getting?"

"Some supplies. Don't look at anyone, and don't talk to anyone," Louis continues, blue eyes wide and serious as he looks at Harry for agreement, "These people are a little shady, I don't quite trust them," He winks.

"That's really weird. I'm twenty-one, you know?" Harry replies. His guts tell him to shut up and run, but he sits there, side eyeing Louis, waiting him to explain the situation, "You're telling me to hide from your coworkers because they're shady?"

"Bear with me, Harry," Louis presses his thin lips together and forces a small smile, "Yeah?"

Harry nods, pulling his hood up and training his eyes on his shoes, "I'm also six-feet tall and I workout. I can do forty-three push-ups.

"Harry, I know you can take care of yourself," Louis sighs, "Please, just bear with me."

Harry nods quietly.

Louis is gone for what seems like forever. Harry sits in the same position, too scared to move as he occasionally looks up, searching for Louis' figure in the dim light. Crickets chirp, lightly buzzing in the distance of the crisp fall night.

It's not more than fifteen minutes later that Harry hears footsteps crunching through the loose gravel. He trains his eyes intently on his black vans and waits. The footsteps come to a halt on Harry's side of the vehicle.

"Who's in the car?" A gruff voice asks and Harry makes the split second mistake of looking up, before facing away.

"You've got a girl in the car, Tomlinson?" The voice chuckles, "Pretty one at that, better be careful with her."

Louis isn't replying, but he moves to stand in front of Harry's passenger window, "Load the shit, will you?"

"You know what happened to the last one? Click click, boom."

"Shut the fuck up," One of the other men tell him.

Harry shivers at the reference. Louis was right, these people do seem a little shady. There's no reason Louis should have to work with people like this. Louis can be safe, he can probably get any job he wants in the city. Why is he getting himself stuck in situations like this?

It doesn't take long for the people to load the back of the truck. The same man who was talking earlier makes another comment about how pretty the girl in the car and Louis tells him to fuck off before he makes a phone call. 

The people leave immediately, and Louis stays next to Harry's door, watching them go. When he finally enters the car, he does so quietly, studying Harry's expression.

"You okay?" Louis asks.

Harry nods, eyes still down on his shoes, "Yeah, just confused."

"Nothing to be confused about, Harold," Louis answers.

So, Harry keeps his mouth shut as they drive off into the night again. It hasn't been two minutes before Louis pulls a sharp right, jolting Harry in his seat.

"Careful," Harry almost yells as he grabs onto his armrests. 

But Louis speeds up, "Hold on!" He yells as he takes a hard left, throwing Harry into the door.

"Louis!" Harry shouts, "What the fuck?" 

"Someone's behind us," Louis rushes out, "We have to get rid of them."

Harry turns around in his seat and sees headlights, "It's just a car, Louis. They're probably not following us."

Louis takes another sharp left and speeds up further, careening the car onto a nearly empty highway, heading further away from the city.

The car follows, matching their speed. Harry wraps his arms across his chest and slouches in his chair, making himself smaller, as goosebumps raise along his skin, "Or I guess they are..."

Louis doesn't answer, too focused on driving.

"Louis," Harry whimpers, feeling his heart pick up speed from fright, "We have to call the cops."

"N-"

A bang sounds outside and Harry's blood goes cold.

"What was that?" He whispers.

"They're fucking shooting!" Louis answers, slamming on his brakes and taking a turn across the divide between the highway lanes, changing direction so they're heading toward the city, "We have to take them down!"

"Wha-" Harry stammers, his head spins and the situation doesn't feel real anymore "I don't know what's going on!"

"Harry, get the damn gun from under your chair and shoot their tire!" Louis shouts, voice strained from effort.

"Wh- what?" Harry stammers, "I only practiced once, I can't aim, Louis!"

"We don't really have a choice!" Louis' teeth are gritted together and his knuckles white as he stares straight ahead.

"Call 911?"

"What the fuck, police won't help!"

Harry has no choice as he fumbles under his seat till his fingers wrap around cold metal. Somewhere in his mind he wonders why Louis has guns in both of his cars, if it's just an American thing or something else. But he doesn't have time to think because Louis' shouting at him again.

"Come here!" Louis yells, lifting the arm rest up, "You're going to shoot from here, they won't see it coming and they won't be able to shoot you!"

"Lou-"

"Come on, Harry, please!" The car swivels as Louis turns his head to give Harry a pleading look, "I can't do this alone!"

Harry runs his free hand over his face and through his hair, composing himself, mustering up the willpower.

"You can do this, come on, Harold!" Louis urges, "Just sit on me, face the back and you'll be fine. I swear Harry, nothing will happen to you."

Harry shifts in his seat and swings his leg over Louis, straddling him as he awkwardly slides into Louis' lap. As Harry peaks over the back of Louis' seat, he realizes that Louis knows what he's doing. From here, the other shooter won't even see him, and the driver will not be able to react to his assault.

If Louis is confident, he is so with good reason, he isn't cocky, he is sure of himself. So Harry talks himself up in his mind quickly, reminding himself that Louis knows what he's doing.

The air pressure pains Harry's ears as Louis rolls down the windows, "Harry," he whispers, head right next to Harry's, "You just have to lean out this window and shoot their tire. If you don't, they will shoot ours and we can't let that happen today."

Harry's mouth is dry as he chokes out a yes, hand cocking the gun as he lifts himself up.

Louis moves his hand out of the way and grabs a fistful of Harry's hoodie, hand bunching the fabric at his waist. When Harry pushes himself up and out of the window, Louis' still holding him secure. Harry reaches down with his free arm and wraps his hand around Louis' forearm, gripping on for dear life.

The wind blows Harry's hair wildly in front of his eyes and the force of the air nearly knocks him out of the car. But he steadies himself and pushes back into the wind, arm lengthening out to get a good aim. He doesn't know what he's doing and he can't quite see, but he still shoots. Adrenaline buzzes through his veins from the action. The shot misses, but Harry tries again, blinking through his curls as he attempts to get a decent view. He aims in front of the tire rather than at the tire, and the car screeches, swiveling out of control. Harry never sees what kind of car it was, just the lights, spinning.

It's then that Louis tugs on his shirt and Harry lets himself be pulled inside. He buries his face in Louis' neck and let's his arms hang limply at his sides. The gun dangling, barely in the hold of his right hand.

The windows close and Louis whispers to him in the quiet, "That was wonderful, Harry. You don't have to worry about it. You did good."

"Did they die?" Harry whispers, voice shaky.

"No one is dead, Harry. They were following us, we had to get away."

"Okay," Harry croaks, falling silent against Louis as he feels soft circles being rubbed into the middle of his back. They movement illicit warmth and Harry feels it seeping through his body, almost calming him down. However, his mind won't allow that just yet.

"It's scary, but you did well. Thank you, Harry," Louis goes on and on, giving Harry nonsensical praise and reassurance that everything is alright.

The thing is, that nothing is alright. Harry can feel it in the weight of the metal in his hand, he can feel it in the weight of the heart in his chest, and no matter how many circles Louis rubs into his back, he'll still feel it.


	36. {Part II The Present}

It's not until Louis has parked the car that Harry moves swiftly back to his own seat. The gun is still held precariously in his fingers.

Louis turns to look at him, narrow blue eyes piercing through the dark of the parking garage, "Here," He offers his hand out.

Harry immediately places the gun in Louis' hand and watches as he puts the safety back on. Louis opens a compartment and pulls out alcohol wipes, cleaning off the gun before he leans forward and pushes it under Harry's seat again.

"Does that work?" Harry questions, voice low and scratchy.

"It's the best I can do," Louis' mouth lifts upward in a feigned smile as he takes in Harrys' concerned expression, "Let's go inside, Harry."

Harry inhales slowly and deeply before speaking, "Are you going to explain that?" His expression is bewildered as he looks toward Louis.

Louis shrugs nonchalantly, averting his gaze, "It's just Chicago, Harry."

"Right," Harry snorts lightly, "And London, is just London, Louis. However, I've never had to do this in London."

"Chicago is dangerous at night," Louis flatly replies, "We're safe."

After that, Harry quiets down. He has seen quite a lot since he's moved here, and it's barely been a month. He's seen a police chase outside his apartment, he's heard people screaming in an alley and he's been held at gun point in a restaurant. This scene fits right in with the rest. So, he takes Louis' word for the time being and nods.

Louis opens his door and steps out, footsteps echoing in the parking garage as he walks around to Harry's door. He holds the door open and waits patiently for Harry to collect himself and come out.

Harry gingerly exits the vehicle and steps to the side as he looks down at Louis' face, "What about your delivery?"

"Tomorrow," Louis answers.

Harry nods and turns, walking toward the elevator.

They make it to Louis' apartment and Harry immediately rushes toward the couch. He collapses in one corner and curls himself into a ball. His phone is in his hands as he searches through the news. Surely, someone must have heard the gunshot. The media will be covering it within minutes.

The music still blasts in Zayn's room, filtering through the room, almost like an unconventional background track.

Louis walks around the back of the couch, subtly peeking at Harry's phone screen as he switches the tv on. The tv channel happens to be on the news as the host reports a car crash. 

"Don't change it!" Harry commands, "That's us, fuck!"

"Har-"

"Do you think someone got hurt?" Harry questions, head whipping around to Louis. His eyes wide and wild, "Do you think someone died?"

"Harry-"

"Fuck!" Harry shouts, throwing himself back into the cushions as he turns his attention back to the news.

"Harry," Louis calmly repeats, "That's not us."

As soon as Louis says that, the tv screen changes to a two car crash near downtown Chicago. But Harry isn't having it, he's still tensed as he scrolls through the news site on his phone.

"The car went off the street," Harry counters, "I'm sure it'll be on next."

Louis' voice stays low and cool as he continues, "They're going to change their tire and be on their way, Harry."

"You cannot be sure," Harry repeats, turning his attention back to the tv. His foot taps impatiently and he leans forward, as if wanting to jump into the tv.

"These people, their whole survival depends on staying anonymous, Harry," Louis explains. He moves slowly from behind the couch and settles onto the armrest, facing Harry. He reaches out and tucks a soft curl behind Harry's ear.

Harry's heart jumps at the contact and he slowly tilts his head upward at Louis.

Louis continues running his hand through Harry's long brown curls, eyes on the tv screen, "I can assure you, Harry."

"Can you?" Harry asks feeling his nerves begin to settle from Louis' rhythmic touch.

"Hmm," Louis tilts his head, eyes skimming across Harry's face and landing on his lips momentarily, "You're safe, Harry. And if by chance, anything ever comes back to you, I'd be able to fix it. I can assure you, Harry, I have the power to keep you safe."

It's a combination of his confidence, and of his touch that makes Harry believe Louis. He presents himself in a way that Harry is sure, anyone would believe him. Hell, he'd believe it if Louis told him the sky would fall down tomorrow. So, Harry takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, leaning into Louis' hand. He turns his face so Louis' palm rests against his cheek and sighs.

Louis shifts his hand back, slowly grazing his fingers behind Harry's ear. Harry shivers visibly, eyes still shut as Louis continues moving his hand to his neck. His hand slides down Harry's throat and settles at the base in a light hold.

***

Louis sits on the armrest, towering above Harry for once. His hand is wrapped around the base of Harry's throat and Harry just sits there. He can feel the rapid rise and fall of the boy's chest beneath his hand, and he can feel the increasing heart beat in the tips of his fingers pressed against the side of Harry's neck.

He isn't sure about what he's doing, but something about Harry is so magnetic that he doesn't have to know. Louis takes his other hand and runs it through Harry's soft long hair. His fingers curl around a fistful of it as he slowly tilts Harry's head back.

Harry gasps at that, mouth falling open. His hands shoot up and he grabs Louis' wrist.

And fuck, he's so soft, so pliant and so pretty. Louis feels so strongly, he isn't sure what he feels, but it's not just lust, but fuck if that's the only part of it he can understand, so be it. From what Louis can see, Harry's getting hard just from getting his hair tugged on, and fuck that has got to be the hottest thing he's seen.

"Harry," Louis breathes.

***

Harry gasps as Louis' other hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back. 

He moves his hands up and wraps them gently around the wrist of Louis' hand, at the base of his throat. He can't make one logical thought right now.

"Harry," Louis breathes.

"L-Louis," Harry stammers, mouth dry as he struggles to breathe.

Louis pulls him closer, "May I?" He asks, breath spanning across Harry's face.

And fuck there is only so much that Harry can take. He moans in response, unable to speak.

"Use your words, Harry," Louis coos, releasing his hold and gently bringing both hands to caress Harrys face.

"Please," Harry moans, feeling Louis' thumb glide across the corner of his mouth and he gasps again. He can't talk he doesn't want to talk he wants Louis to just know-

"Please what?" Louis asks.

"Yes, please," Harry rushes out, feeling his face heat up. 

The moment almost dissolves as Harry feels embarrassment creeping up his neck. Not that he should, they both discussed it when they had their first kiss, it only makes sense that they discuss it now. But see Harry wasn't half hard with Louis' hand around his neck. That was innocent and this is not, not at all. Harry almost snaps out of the moment, but then Louis' lips are against Harry's and oh-

It's like electricity coursing through him and the source of it is Louis. He feel's Louis' mouth moving against his, sucking softly on his bottom lip, then his top. Before he can gather himself, Louis pulls back and Harry's eyes finally snap open in shock.

"Let's go to my room," Louis breathes, lips a fine shade of red as he scrambles to his feet, "Yeah?"

Harry swallows, "I-"

"Zayn's here," Louis pointedly glances behind them, "Come."

When Louis stands up and pulls Harry's hand, leading him toward him toward his room, Harry follows. 

Harry has no idea what he's doing, but he knows he can't let this get too far. He hasn't been with anyone since that small kiss him and Louis shared. A part of him wants Louis, he wants him so bad but there's a wiser voice in his mind that tells him the time isn't right. They don't know each other and this won't lead to anything. Harry needs something to come out of all this.

They've taken one step into Louis' room before the door is slammed shut. Harry hears the lock click into place and the next thing he knows is he's pushed backward onto the bed.

The room is lit only with the glow of streetlights filtering in from the window. Harry leans up on his elbows as he watches Louis' dimly lit figure strip off his sweatshirt. Louis' eyes glitter as he stalks toward the bed, lips curling up into a sultry smile. 

Louis must be Aphrodite herself because there is no other explanation for how that simple look scatters millions of butterflies across Harry's stomach. They tingle their way to the tips of his toes and fingers, before converging again in the pit of his stomach. 

***

Harry's hair lands in a halo as he sinks into Louis' bed, he quickly moves onto his elbows, never taking his gaze off Louis. 

Louis strips his hoodie, keeping his eyes on Harry's every move, looking for any sign of hesitance. Harry is docile and sweet, the last thing Louis wants is to do anything the boy isn't willing to.

He smiles as he walks toward the bed, watching Harry's eyes widen and his long fingers twitch against the matters. 

"Alright?" Louis asks, coming to a standstill between Harry's lean legs, dangling off the edge of the bed.

Harry nods.

"Move back," Louis commands and Harry does just that, dragging himself fully onto the bed, knees bent toward the ceiling. 

Louis' movements are slow and he continues making eye contact with Harry, as if silently making sure everything is okay. And fuck, Harry thinks that is the sweetest thing ever.

"Are you okay?" Louis questions, knee on the bed. As soon as Harry nods, Louis pushes himself onto the bed and kneels between Harry's legs. 

Louis hands rest on Harrys' knees, meeting his eyes as he slowly starts dragging his hands up toward Harrys' hips. 

***

Harry feels panic start to settle in the pit of his stomach as Louis' hands climb up the sides of his sweatshirt. But he holds it at bay and watches in amazement at the way Louis moves. He's so agile, within seconds he's pining Harry's wrists above his head and Harry has no idea how they got there. 

"Okay?" Louis asks, leaning his face down to the crook of Harrys' neck, tickling him with his scruff as he lands a soft kiss right below his jaw.

"Yeah," Harry breathes out. He does want to see where this goes but at the same time a part of him doesn't, "Louis?" He needs to ask to stop at some point.

"Hmm," Louis hums, grazing his teeth up the side of Harry's jaw.

And- what was he going to say? "Lou," Harry moans.

Louis' grip tightens at that and Harry hears a sharp intake of breath as Louis grinds down between Harry's legs. 

A dizzying rush shoots through Harry's body and all he can do is breathe, that too just barely. He can feel Louis, fully hard against his own cock, straining against his tight jeans.

Louis' mouth connects with his, hard and firm as he transfers both of Harrys' wrists into one hand, bringing the other down to trace through his hair. Louis rolls his hips against Harrys', creating friction and Harry groans into his mouth, as his legs squeeze around Louis. 

Louis moans in response, changing into short quick thrusts as he rubs against Harry.

And fuck- all Harry can think of is how hot Louis' moan is. 

Suddenly Louis shifts and Harry feels Louis' hand squeezing against his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he breaks the kiss, swiftly turning his head, "Fuck," he pants, "Fu-ah."

"Harry," Louis whispers, hand still, "Is this okay?"

Harry nods, and Louis drags his hand up to the waistline of his jeans, tracing his fingers along it. Harry's head snaps around and he catches Louis watching him intently. 

"Yeah?" He asks, blue eyes intense, searching Harry's face.

Harry nods again, but as soon as Louis fingers dip under his waistband he gasps out, "Wait!"

For a second he thinks that Louis isn't going to listen, but Louis freezes, unmoving, "Just wait?" he questions.

Harry nods, swallowing. 

Louis smiles back, softly this time as he leans down and pecks Harry's lips, "You can ask to stop," He offers.

"Okay," Harry follows up, feeling his face heat in embarrassment as Louis ' blue eyes skim across his face, "Yeah can we stop?"

Louis moves himself back and breaks all contact, "Absolutely, Harry."

Harry moves further back and squeezes his knees together, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Louis reassures, still smiling reassuringly at him, "There is nothing to apologize for."

To Harry's amazement, Louis doesn't question him he simply gets up and puts his clothing on. It makes Harry want to explain himself and he tries but Louis tells him there is nothing to explain. It's a small gesture but a powerful one and Harry swears up and down that if he ever get's Louis, he'll never leave him.


	37. {Part II The Present}

Louis eyes Harry repeatedly through the night. Harry can feel his gaze. He doesn't know what Louis is thinking. Every time Harry glances over, Louis simply smiles, but he never looks away first. Though, he does look away after Harry smiles back and averts his own gaze.

"What is it?" Harry asks Louis about halfway through the movie. He turns his head and catches Louis' eyes immediately.

A sigh escapes Louis' lips and he smiles again, "You remind me of someone," He shrugs, eyes bolting to the tv, that's all.

Harry's breath catches in his throat, "Of who?"

"I don't know," Louis answers, not daring to look back again, "I do not know."

"A friend or something?" Harry gently nudges, studying Louis' face.

Louis bites the inside of his cheek and nods, "Yeah," His eyebrows furrow, "Something."

"Oh," Harry searches his brain for what else to do and when nothing comes to mind he scooches toward the middle of the bed. 

Louis doesn't react.

"So, who?" Harry pushes.

"Harry," Louis pauses the movie and glances over, "I genuinely have no idea."

"Well, you did sort of answer me," Harry shrugs, "Anything else?"

A sense of loss flashes across Louis' face before he contorts his face in an almost angry manner, "I can't remember, Harry," He huffs and looks down at the remote, "It's not like I can. I- there was an accident. I can't remember, Harry."

"Oh," Harry says again, "What about little bits?"

Louis glances over warily, "Doesn't matter."

"Talking helps," Harry coaxes.

"I don't know," Louis sighs, "We were friends," He bites the inside of his cheek again and looks away, "Until the end, I know I kissed him."

"But, you don't remember him?" Harry watches as Louis visibly struggles with finding the words.

Louis huffs again and taps his thumb against the remote impatiently, "No, fuck. I know I loved him and his whole family," He turns the tv off and puts the remote away, "They were like, a proper family. You know what I mean?" Louis stares at Harry again, "Like, they loved each other and I never had a family. I guess I considered them my family."

Harry can feel his nose heating up, the foretelling of the tears he's sure will come. He reaches up and pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, "Oh."

An anxious, faux laugh bubbles out of Louis, "It's stupid, Harry. There's no point talking about it. I know I've mentioned the same shit to you before. I remember that, at least."

"No, that doesn't sound stupid, Lou," Harry manages to keep his voice steady and his face free of any emotion as he talks. He shoves his feelings deep inside, "You can talk more about it."

Louis shrugs again, "Maybe I just remember him because I kissed him," He attempts to brush it off, but his eyes betray him and Harry knows.

"No, I think that's not it. I'm sure you don't remember anyone else you've kissed, Louis," Harry knows he's pushing, knows he's done it before. But he just needs Louis to dig deeper.

"Of course not," Louis snorts. His eyes flicker as he continues, thin lips spread into a seductive smile, "Other than you."

Harry can't help it when he scoffs, "Shut up."

"Who have you kissed beside me?" Louis throws the question out, still smiling smugly, invitingly, "Bet you don't remember, either Harry."

Harry doesn't miss a beat, answering honestly, not thinking of the consequences, "No one."

Louis' smile drops and he blinks blankly, "What?"

"No one," Harry repeats.

"So, was- fuck!"

Harry yelps at the sudden shout and slams his hand over his mouth, face immediately hot as he curses himself for his reaction.

"Did I take your first kiss?" Louis is off the bed, standing up now.

"I-" Harry knows Louis is asking about right now but he doesn't know how to answer that. He nods, swallowing thickly, "Yeah. I suppose, yeah."

"Fuck, Harry," Louis groans, "You should have said something."

Harry shrugs, "I wanted to. Why are you upset?"

"So, you've never been with anyone else?" Louis questions, face confused and disgusted... is he disgusted with Harry?

Harry's throat begins closing, embarrassment heavy in the his entire body, "You don't like that?"

"What? "Louis shakes his head, "That's not- I'm just asking."

"No," Harry's voice cracks, "I-" he swallows, throat dry, "I'm sorry."

Louis frowns, "What are you apologizing for?"

"I don't know," Harry's voice is an octave higher and he knows he's going to cry. He knows he really is going to cry. A tear rolls down Harry's cheek and he quickly wipes it away with his fingers.

"Harry," Louis voice is soft, raspy, "Harry," He climbs onto the bed and places one hand on Harry's face, thumbing away a second tear, "Why are you crying?"

"You don't like that?" Harry whispers, because he knows if he talks any louder he's going to sound high pitched and miserable. 

"I didn't say that," Louis repeats, "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Did I say something?"

Harry bows his head, "Your face, you looked disgusted," and fuck he feels like such a child, blinking away tears while Louis tries to console him.

"Oh, no," Louis sighs, "I'm not happy with myself, Harry," Louis tilts his chin up, "I shouldn't have just kissed you like that."

Harry sighs and attempts to steady his breathing, "But you wanted to, right?"

"Of course," Louis nods, cupping Harry's face in both hands, "But I could have made it special if I knew I was your first kiss."

"Oh," Harry smiles, most likely looking like a miserable mess, "This was special."

Louis smiles sheepishly, "Ah, the fucking sweetest cherub, are you?"

Harry wishes Louis would kiss him again. Right now actually. But, Louis lets go.

Harry's face burns the rest of the night, the fiery warmth from Louis' hands ghosting across his skin.


End file.
